


The Fallen Star

by Stuff (rosegardenlake)



Series: The Fallen Star [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams, Galaxy Garrison, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, SHEITH - Freeform, Slow Burn, Soulmates, like...it sort of is but think of it as a slightly altered timeline?, not totally canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 121,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegardenlake/pseuds/Stuff
Summary: There's a rumor going around the Garrison that if you sneak out onto the rooftop and wish upon a star, your soulmate will be revealed.  Keith had only ever wanted a friend, but he can't even manage that much.  He's running after a fight, bloodied and utterly alone, when he finds himself on the rooftop, sky painted with stars.  He doesn't believe in the stars or love.  But then he starts getting dreams of the Garrison's Golden Boy, strapped to a table and tortured.Keith doesn't need to believe in love to save the only one who believes in him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Voltron fic I ever started!! Back in like...August? I kind of gave up on it for awhile, but it's finally done! Hurray! Please enjoy.

* * *

 

Keith had once loved the stars.  

It was back in the days when he would lay on the roof with his father, both on their backs with arm pressed against arm, laughing, warm and content.  He felt like a star himself, limitless and full of energy, as they sought out the constellations above, hands reaching up and grasping for the small twinkling lights as if they could simply pluck them from the sky.  Back then, Keith had almost believed he could.

A star would shoot across their vision and his father would grin excitedly, eyes lighting up.  He would always spot them first.

“Make a wish”, his father would say as he pointed it out, and Keith would follow his finger until he saw what his father saw, that brilliant light so filled with hope and promise.  A small smile would curve Keith’s lips, plumping his baby-soft cheeks, and he would close his eyes and wish as hard as he could muster.

Back then, Keith already had everything he wanted; the rest of his wishes were just for fun.  “I want ice cream for dinner”, he asked once, prompting a laugh that came deep from his father’s belly (he got ice cream for dinner the very next night).  “I wish flowers could talk,” (that wish didn’t come true), or, “I wish I could have a lion for a pet” (that was still to be seen).

“Maybe a dog one day instead,” his father had said with amusement in his tone and fondness in his eyes.

Back then, things were simple.  Keith was naive and didn’t know that childhood was something precious, something sacred, that would be torn from the hands of youth with time.

Keith’s life started falling apart.  Once it started to unravel, there was nothing to stop it.

First, his mother disappeared.  That was the first time he came to know true pain, betrayal staining his heart; he thought it wasn’t possible for things to get worse.

He was wrong.

His father disappeared soon after, back disappearing into a darkness Keith couldn't quite reach.

And then, Keith was alone.  Truly, completely alone.

His wishes grew and manifested into something more honest, something personal.  

“I wish my parents would come back.”  

He would watch the road outside his window whenever he got the chance, searching for any glimpse of a familiar face.  The road was always empty.

“I wish I had a family.”

When people came into the orphanage, no one would even look at him.  He was too much trouble, too damaged, too ruined.

In his most desperate moments, he begged the stars, hands clenched together tightly, face pressed into his knuckles, gripped white  - “ _I wish I were loved._ ”

They became pleas.

Keith would watch with wide hopeful eyes as the stars would streak past the dark sky, lighting up the darkness brilliantly for a single moment before falling away, snuffed out.

The stars never answered.  Only teased.  Only promised to deliver and then disappointed.

Keith was always alone.

And that silence from the stars became a crushing weight, wrapping its dark hands around Keith’s neck and choking the hope out of him, the life fading from his eyes.

Slowly, but surely, he began to hate them.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay,” he whispered to himself in front of the mirror.  It was his first day at Galaxy Garrison, a place he’d dreamt of coming to for years now, and he wasn’t going to mess this up.  This was it.  

He had made sure to get a good night’s sleep, but there were dark circles beneath his eyes anyway.  Set on his pale drained face and added to his naturally slight frame, they made him look a bit skeletal, a bit unfriendly.  Of course it didn’t help that his shoulders were tense and his mouth was pressed down into a frown by default.  

When he tried to unwind them, it was inevitable that they’d tense right back up.  

“Stop that.  You’re not that orphan anymore,” he told himself sternly, messing with his collar nervously.  “So just…go out there and…and make a friend…or…maybe even two.  Two of them…”

His eyes wavered at the thought so he slapped his cheeks and straightened his posture.  “It’ll be easy,” he said, but he was breathless and it was becoming harder and harder to believe himself.  “Just smile,” he breathed.  “Just smile.”  Easy.

But the school was so big, filled with the elite.  Everywhere he turned, he was immediately intimated.

The first person he tried to talk to sat behind him in his first class.  He silently gathered courage for a good five minutes before turning around and trying to exchange pleasantries.  He didn’t seem disinterested entirely and he even gave Keith his name - Anthony - so he counted that as a win.  And in third period, someone even talked to him first.  They asked his name.  Wished him good luck.  Things were going just as he had hoped.  

Maybe this really was the moment things would change.

He felt pretty good about his first day, so good that he wasn't even nervous for his last period, where everyone gathered for their first session in the flight simulator.

Iverson stood tall, going over the history of the sim and then, more carefully, over the controls.

Their class crammed into the sim and hallway, trying to get a good look at the front dashboard and windshield.

Iverson pressed a button, prompting text on the screen.  “High score”, it read in bright blue font.  It listed the top ten scores, all with the same name attached.

“Some of you may know Officer Shirogane.  He’s the best pilot the Garrison has ever known.  He’s broken all previous records and only gets better.  His skill is unparalleled.  These are his scores.”

Excitement rolled through the crowd.  Murmurs of approval and awe.  Smiles grew on faces.

A girl behind Keith squeaked excitedly, turning her head and whispering in a mad dash to her friend, “That’s Shiro!”

“The one who helped us rescue that cat out of the cactus?”

“I told you he was kind and talented.  Look at those scores.”

Another group of friends were clapping their hands together and hooting, “that’s our boy!  He doesn’t work out all those hours for nothing!”

Another boy behind Keith said, “he recommended some books to me to help with my flying.  I’m excited to put them to the test.”

Everyone seemed to be alight with excitement just at the mere mention of this one single person.  Keith bit back a sigh.

Anthony was beside Keith, nose pointed up, smug look on his face, “my father says he’s quite the prodigy.  The best the Garrison has and will ever see.  I know him, you know.  My brother’s a good friend of his.  He’s come to my house.”

“…Cool,” Keith said even though he didn’t think it was really that cool.  A guy was a guy was a guy was a guy.  Everyone freaking out over one person was a little sickening honestly.  Unless he had a damn halo around his head, Keith didn’t really see what all the racket was about.

So he was helpful, big deal.  And smart, and strong, and rescued cats from danger.  Okay.  

“I’ve been practicing,” Anthony said.  “I had a flight simulator built at home from the same mechanics who created this.  I’m going to be the first one to beat Shirogane’s score.  Mark my words.”

Keith nodded again, biting his lip.  Were people supposed to practice?  He hadn’t known.

“How about you?  Ever practiced?”

“Um…  I’ve…watched someone ride a bike?”

Anthony laughed like Keith was the funniest softest little kitten ever.  “Well, it’s alright.  No one expects anything out of us right now anyway.”

Iverson confirmed that.  “Shirogane is one of our best - exceptional and a great role model.  If you have the chance to talk to him, I’d highly recommend it.  But today, we just want you to begin to familiarize yourself with the controls.  The flight sim is something that takes years of practice to get the hang of.  Even Shirogane crashed his first time.  No one will score.”

It was true.  The first person to go up started the sim, made it out of the hanger, and then nosedived immediately, the whole screen going up in flames.

Iverson assured them when they went stark white, hands shaking:  “Everyone crashes.”

The second person crashed in much the same way.  And the third and the fourth.  No one ever made it into the air.  

When it was Anthony’s turn, Keith wasn’t sure what to expect.  Across the screen was the wide open desert, the sky stretched out above them, infinite.  Maybe he could touch the sky, if only for a moment.  

Anthony did make it out of the hanger.  He didn’t nosedive and when he managed to get into the air, the entire room burst into cheers.  Keith turned behind him to get a look at Iverson, who was smiling, his eyes lit up.  

Wow, Keith thought.  Maybe all that talk wasn’t for nothing.

He didn’t make it far.  He crashed into the first large boulder that came his way, but that wasn’t the point.  He had flown for a few moments, taking off into a space that none of the others had that afternoon, and that was something.

Anthony was smiling as he rose and came to stand back beside Keith.  “How about that?  I have the best teachers in the country.  I’ll be glad to tell Father it wasn’t for nothing, am I right?”

“Right,” Keith forced out, plastering what he hoped looked like an encouraging smile onto his face.  Socializing was exhausting.

“Your turn,” Anthony nodded toward the sim, smug smile back on his face.  “Let’s see how you do, bike boy.”

“Kogane,” Iverson muttered, looking up from his list.  “You’re up.”

He stepped inside the flight sim, spirit at ease.  He figured being nervous was for when people expected something out of you, when you expected it out of yourself.  But all he expected was to crash.

He was surprised as he looked around the cockpit.  He’d never been in one before but, somehow - and he couldn’t explain how - it felt like home.  The dull rumble of the engine, the soft cushioning of the seat that fitted right to his back, molded as if for him.  Familiar almost, as if he’d known it in another life.

He had never found home, not since his father disappeared on him, but it was like he was getting a whiff of it again, so nostalgic that it made his throat tighten up. This was home. This was the right direction.

The controls melded with his hands as he felt them.  Comfortable.  His.

He knew before he started the sim that this was what he was made for.  He didn’t even wait for Iverson’s cue.

He grabbed the controls in both of his hands and threw his entire body into a mighty push forward.

He flew.

Boy, did he fly.  He charged out of the hanger and forgot the desert completely.  He soared over the mountains, into the sky, seeking out the stars.  He hadn’t even realized it himself that he had this in him, but it was instinctual, easier than breathing.

There they were. The stars his dad would point out to him, right there, within his reach.

Laughter burst from his chest, just as surprised as anyone else.  Energy, like pure energy.  This was freedom.

“Kogane,” Iverson’s voice broke him out of his joy ride.  He sounded choked.  “End sequence.”

Keith blinked back to himself.  He was in the stars, weaving through their bright guiding light.  He slowed.  

“Yes, sir,” he said quickly, trying to force himself back to reality.

Only then did he realize the dead silence.  

No cheering like there had been for Anthony, or whispers of awe.  Just raw, horrible silence.  

“Cadet,” Iverson said as Keith approached, his face stunned out of expression.  “Who sent you?”

“H-huh?”

“Is this some sort of intervention from the government?  I won’t stand for it.”

“Sir, no.  I’ve just come here because I want to fly.”

Iverson’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Where have you flown before?”

“Nowhere, sir.  This was my first time.”

There was a beep behind him, on the screen.  He turned.

There, on the bottom of the “high score” list, was his score, switching out the bright words of “Takashi Shirogane” for “Keith Kogane.”  The wall of Shiroganes made room for him, and only him.

The silence grew, becoming worse, much worse.

Keith felt cold and then hot all over.  

“You said you’d never practiced,” Anthony accused, finger pointed and face pinched.  His angry voice pierced through the silence like a knife to a balloon.  “I demand he redo it.  That had to be a glitch of some sort.”

Iverson was writing furiously in his notes, not paying attention.

“He cheated!”  Anthony spat.

The looks around him were becoming shut off, eyes narrowed into glares.  A roll of distrustful chatter caught the crowd like a wave.

The first day had been so promising, for awhile.

Iverson was frowning into his notes.  When he finally looked up, he pointed Keith back into the sim.  “Again.”

Keith did it again.  And beat his last score.

 

Keith had wanted so badly to make friends, to change what fate had given him thus far.  But on the second day Keith walked to class, Anthony sneered at him, kicking Keith's chair out from under him as he went to sit in it, whispering lowly, “cheating scum”.  The girl in his third period class ignored him entirely.  He tried to speak to her, voice quiet and timid, and she looked away.

The anger he had tried to leave behind when he left the orphanage was rising inside of him again.  Would crashing have been better?  Did he need to lower himself to their level in order to live happily?  

He couldn’t do that.  He couldn’t hold himself back like that.  

“Just smile”, he had told himself, as if it had been the orphanage that had been the problem all along and not him.  

“Just smile,” he told himself again, staring harshly at his reflection in the mirror.  But he couldn’t.

 

A week later, he was throwing his fist into Anthony’s smug little face.  

He was weaker than Keith thought he’d be.  He expected at least a little fight, but Anthony crumpled upon the first hit, knees buckling, falling face-first into the floor.

He went limp.  Down.  Keith blinked.

There wasn’t much time to wonder about it though.  One of Anthony’s friends ran at him full force from behind, thinking he could catch Keith unaware.

_Behave,_ he had told himself when he had first walked through the doors of the Garrison, excited, mind open.  There was nothing left for him outside of those doors, but as he turned to see someone tossing themselves bodily at him, it felt all too clear that inside the doors wasn’t much better.  

And it wasn’t fair.

He channeled that building frustration into his fists, dispersing it across his next victim who went down as easily as Anthony.  Keith ducked and whirled out of the _next_ person’s sights, using the guy’s own momentum to toss him face-first into the lockers.

The sound wasn’t pretty as he bounced off the lockers from the force, blood pouring onto his uniform, nose crooked and torn.

Anthony’s idiot friends had all been eager to fight, but now several were cowering, holding up those who had fallen, some just running.  The last of them was spent, but pitifully trying to crawl toward Keith out of spite, his name spat onto the floor with droplets of blood.  “You’ll pay for this, Kogane,” he promised, eyes filled with bright malice.  “You’ll be expelled before you can blink.”

Keith narrowed his eyes and then blinked deliberately, smile growing on his face.  He lived for shit like this.  “Looks like I’m going to call that bluff.  I just blinked, didn’t you see?  And nothing happened.”

The guy spat again, this time on Keith’s shoes.  He had had enough at that point, irritated one too many times in the day, so he lifted his foot, ready to smash his pathetic little face in and -

“Stop!”  Someone cried out from behind him, voice cutting through the air.  A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. There was enough authority in the voice to give Keith a start, but when he turned, he realized the person wasn’t a teacher.  He wasn’t a student either though.

He fixed his gaze on Keith with gentle concern.  “You’ve made your point.  Haven't you done enough?”

There was a silent plea in his tone. 

Keith turned.

A crowd had built behind this man, a wall of people all stunned into watching.  Trembling hands were slapped over their mouths, some were clinging to each other, hiding their faces and seeking shelter.  Others were staring in horror, transfixed on those laying in a lump on the ground.  Someone was crying.

“You’ve done enough,” the man said again, softer.  His hand was still on Keith’s shoulder.

The eyes on him that had been curious and interested last week were now filled with unadulterated horror.  They looked at him like he was a monster.

People were stepping back in fear when he made eye contact.  They were gasping through their hands, eyes wide with terror, staring at him.   _Him_.

He bit his lip.  

“No,” he wanted to protest.  The crowd didn’t understand.  He hadn’t started this.  This wasn’t his fault.  He hadn’t _wanted this_.  “They were the ones who…”

Some small part of him wanted to protest, to explain, to beg, but he knew from their faces, with a slow sinking feeling in his gut, there would be no redemption.  

He turned to see what the others saw.  

There was blood.  A lot of blood.  It was covering the white tile like spilled paint, thick and surreal and enough to make people slip.  Most of it was theirs, and he realized, in surprise, that some of it was his own.  

They were hurt, but Keith had done worse before.  

One of them only had a split lip.  He probably wouldn’t even bruise.  Keith couldn’t understand why he was laying on the floor like he’d been stabbed through with a knife.  Keith hadn’t even taken out his knife yet.

It wasn’t like this at the orphanage.  Kids would torment Keith over and over again, seeking him out.  He had bled a lot more then and no one would blink.

But that wasn’t the point and he knew it.

Keith had forgotten something very important when he had stepped through the Garrison’s doors: he wasn’t at the orphanage anymore.  These boys had parents, people who loved them.  When they went home, they had someone to complain to.  They actually meant something here.

“Call Commander Iverson!”  Someone cried.  “Before he hurts someone else!”

“I _wouldn’t_ ,”  he said, so horrified that they’d think that.  He stumbled forward, reaching out, desperate to have them understand.

Gasps.  The crowd shrunk back as if his hands were made of fire.  They were all afraid to get burned.

He was living with that fire, buried in his head, burning him alive.  

He couldn’t do anything right.

Forcing himself to breathe, he turned on his heel and ran.

A place to hide.  He scrambled for it, racing through the hallways, turning wherever he happened to turn.  The bathroom door at the end of the hallway was old and mostly abandoned, so he pushed his way in.

Keith shoved his jacket sleeves up and turned on the bathroom sink to rinse his bloodied knuckles.

Though he avoided any major injuries, the fight had drained him mentally.  He almost didn’t look into the mirror.  He didn’t want to see what the crowd had seen.  Maybe the manic light that some people got when they fought, or was it just like he was now: Keith Kogane, stripped raw and down to his most vulnerable self and rejected, even then.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to his reflection.

Yeah.  He recognized that face.  The same drawn out pale complexion, the scraggly black hair that he never bothered to care for, the strange foreign eyes.  Violet.  Unnatural.  Beastly.  A monster.

With a sharp tsk, he ducked his head, focusing on scrubbing his hands clean of their blood and of his crime.  After awhile, the blood was gone, but the guilt was still there, haunting him, so he scrubbed harder.

The bathroom door opened, bringing the loud chatter of two people, oblivious to Keith as he carefully shuffled himself deeper into the corner.  He knew he had to hurry, but he didn’t know where he’d go.  Maybe sneak out a window and just leave.  Go into the desert, see how far he could go.  No one would notice.

“Hey, man, I think your hands are clean now,” one of the cadets said.  Keith didn’t bother to reply.  Just another faceless person in a sea of more of them.  If they weren’t screaming, then they didn’t know what he’d done and were therefore harmless.

“See what I mean?”  They continued, lowering their voice to speak to their companion.  “He never says anything.  I tried for awhile the other day, but it’s pointless.  Maybe he’s deaf.”  His voice brightened like that was a brilliant idea.  “Hey!  You deaf?”

His friend nudged him with an elbow and muttered under their voice, “stop that.  Leave him alone.  Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk.”

“I guess.  But why do I have to have a roommate like that?”

“Stop complaining. It could be worse.”

Keith’s skin on his hands was red now, almost the color of his jacket he had tucked away in his room.  They were starting to hurt and burn.  He turned the water off and went to dry them.

One of the guys was standing in the way, so he walked over to the paper towel dispenser boldly and scowled until the cadet moved to the other corner, still chattering away about god knows what.

Keith wondered distantly what that might be like to talk casually with a friend in the bathroom.  To be that comfortable and unguarded…  Yeah, that must be nice.

“That rumor, right?”  They kept talking casually since the bathroom was the perfect place for conversation.  “The one about the stars?”

“Yeah!”  The other person exclaimed happily.  “How they’ll show you your soulmate, right?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Me?  Are you kidding?  Of course I have.  It was the first thing I did when I got here.”

“And?”

“Nada.  Absolutely nothing.  Probably just takes awhile.  I can’t wait to see what a hot babe she is.”

The other person coughed to hide a laugh.  “Yeah, that’s what it is.  How’d you get on the roof anyway?  I thought it was locked.”

“I have my ways,” they said slyly.

Silence.  “It was unlocked, wasn’t it?”

“…Yeah.  They kept it unlocked a few months back, but so many people were going out there past curfew, they started locking it.  Too bad.  I want to try again.”

“Making a wish on a star,” the other person hummed.  “You know, I used to wish when I was younger that I could attend Galaxy Garrison and I’m here now.  Think it was the stars’ guidance?”

“Who knows?  Could be.  Power of the stars, man.”  

“Power of the stars.”

Keith waited for them to leave.  As the door swung shut, he carefully poked his head out, checking for Iverson or a group of people with pitchforks and torches, but there was no one.  

He slipped out and snuck down the hallway to the roof.  It was the perfect place to hide for a while - conveniently close and he liked the idea of it being locked even better.  

It didn’t take much to get the door unlocked with his knife.  Carrying knives around the Garrison was against the rules, but Keith’s knife was more important to him than anything - it was the only thing he had left of his father.

It worked well for him.  The lock clicked out of place and he felt the door give beneath his hand.  Cold air burst through the crack, cutting into him, assaulting his face.

It was just the sky past the door.  Nothing else.  Dark dark blue, swallowed by the twinkling delicate stars, expanding above, below, around him.  The sky was everywhere.

It was freezing on the roof.  Being so high and exposed to the desert’s harsh night was a test of endurance, especially with the edges of his jacket sleeves wet. The cold wind sighing around him and playing with his hair didn't help either, but Keith didn’t hate it.  It twirled around him and skyward, like it was playing with him.  It wasn’t condemning or hunting him.  Cold or not, that was all he could ask for.

He found himself walking to the edge of the roof, toes touching the drop off, where the hard desert floor lay far below himself.

A drop this far down would be fatal.  

He didn’t step away.  He just stared.  Watched as the darkness swallowed the desert up, watched as everything slept, everything kept quiet, everything moved on without any correlation to him.  It was a strange feeling knowing that if he slipped and disappeared tonight, the world would still turn.  No one would miss him.  No one would cry.  His impact on the world had been minimal.  No heat, no burning trail.  

If he fell, everything would just…stay the same.  It would be as quiet as the moment he was standing in, bathed in stars, everything still, everything hushed.

The Garrison was supposed to save him.  That was the plan.  Get through the orphanage, get through shitty high school, make it _here._  He had held out for so long in the hopes that his hard work would pay off, that his pain would end.  And it didn’t.  Of course it didn’t.

He let out a shaky breath.  Body heavy and feeling defeated, he let gravity pull him off the edge and sink down to the rooftop.  He closed his eyes, succumbing to it.  

His body was trained, when sitting on rooftops, to turn his eyes to the sky and, no matter how stubborn he was, he couldn’t stop it.  There, above him, were the same damn stars as ever.  They never fixed things.

It had been funny listening to those two cadets talk about the stars as if they solved problems.  As if they were actually gods up there who could grant wishes, who could actually give a damn.

Keith had been that foolish once.

Childhood had been so much sweeter when you didn’t even have to wonder if someone had your back, you just knew.  The warmth that had always been by his side was just cold empty air now.  

To be loved, to have a family, to get his father back...  As he grew, those wishes were tucked far away, deep down into the most secret parts of his heart.  Looking into the stars was like scratching at scabs.   

A shooting star flickered by.

It was without his permission that he could hear his father’s voice on the wind.  

_Make a wish_ , he’d say, laid out beside him and smiling widely.  He’d point out the constellations and Keith would lay there, bright-eyed and in awe, as the sky opened up and shown down everything for him.  

Now, Keith could barely remember what his father’s face looked like.  He didn’t know the constellations anymore.

He turned his face sourly and rubbed his hands against his arm - a bad attempt at getting some friction.

He thought about what he’d do next, without the Garrison. All that blood…there was no way they’d let him stay.  

He’d go to the desert maybe.  He could just wander, walking until his feet bled and he collapsed from dehydration or heat stroke, whichever came first.  

Another shooting star shot past.  

Two.   _Lucky me_ , Keith thought bitterly.  

Maybe, if he weren’t such a fucking coward, he’d just jump right there off the roof.  At least he wouldn't have to suffer.  ...But he didn’t want anyone to find him like that.  If he wanted anything, it was to wander off without leaving a trace.  Just disappear into a desert and never come back.  Just like his dad had done to him.  

His eyes flickered in annoyance at the sky, distracting him from his thoughts.  

One.

And another.  And another.

More.

He frowned up at them, anger brewing.

The sheer number of them was highly unusual.  It felt like more than coincidence that it should start in front of him, like they were trying to communicate.  And he hated that.

“You can stop that!”  He cursed them.  They were interrupting his thoughts.  An annoying bug buzzing in his ear, but instead, they buzzed through the sky.  

Keith hated them.  All he could see in their light was the face of his father, smiling gently down.

He grit his teeth, looking around to grab the nearest thing to throw at them, but there was nothing.  He yelled at them on the top of his lungs instead.  “You want my attention now, huh?  You’ve never cared about me...  I begged you for years and was only met with your silence.  And now look!  Look at how well I’m doing.  Again.  Like always.  You must be _so proud_.”

Their magnificence multiplied in response, lighting the entire sky on fire.  Soft light streamed from them like beacons, their tails flicking color playfully, interweaving with the next star.  

The sight made Keith’s gut fill with uneasiness.  He knew the stars and the sky, that was what he had grown up with, it was what he had always studied, and this wasn’t them.

They dumped down in bucketfuls.    

“A meteor shower…?  No...”  He breathed uneasily, checking the door behind him, afraid his only out might escape.

They just kept getting worse, their light screaming at him.  He grimaced away, hand clutching his chest.

“...Dad?”  He whispered.

They felt like people.  He could almost see them writhing in the light, trying to stretch through the boundaries of time and space to reach out to Keith, to press their own wishes to his skin and mark him.  To get him to reach his hand up to the sky and skim his fingers through their liquid color.  Make contact.

But he wouldn’t.  He couldn’t.

The sky was radiance, as if it was being painted by a god, smeared with excited thoughtless hands.  And he was just one person, smaller than others, more damaged than others.

Despite himself, Keith was stunned into awe, mouth slightly agape and eyes being burned from a sight unfitting for mortal eyes.  He found himself standing again, though he couldn’t remember when he’d gotten to his feet.  He met the edge of the roof again, staring up.

It was all wrong.  He was scared.

The wind hit without a second of warning, wailing at him from the north.  It was like a wall of pure force, knocking him right off of his feet.  He stumbled, weight nearly tossing him from the roof.  He corrected himself just in time, shifting himself back so that he fell on his butt.  He landed badly. The force of his fall zipped up his spine and jammed his neck right into his skull.  Gritting his teeth in pain as he forced himself to roll to his side, away from the drop-off, he fought against the might of the wind.

The door behind him banged shut and the lock clicked into place.

He jerked up, heart bouncing into his mouth.

“Hello?”  he cried, forcing himself to his feet.

The sky boomed and he turned his face skyward, overwhelmed.  Rain.  One drop, then ten, then waves, dropping down from the heavens to curse him, to force him into their will.

He was small, but he wasn’t exactly light.  The wind didn’t care.  When he finally managed to rise to his feet, he was tossed to the floor again.  He hit the ground with his side, hard.  

Keith clung to the floor, bracing himself, throwing his arms over his neck in a feeble attempt to avoid the howling wind.  It brought debris with its fury.  Rocks, big and small, and sand, so much sand that cut like angry pixies, razors for teeth.  His exposed skin was getting minced, shredded cheese in a grater.

_Save him_ .  It was as if the sky was crying, reaching for him, begging.   _Save him._

Thunder boomed through the desert, roaring in Keith’s already overwhelmed ears.  There was a brilliant flash of lightning that split through the sky.  

Something sharp and heavy hit the back of his arms.  And then another.  And another.  They _burned._

He craned his neck, daring to peer through the opening in his arm.

One rolled off him and into his line of sight.  He gawked in confusion.

Stars?  

A radiant mix of ebony, red, and purple, outlined in a blazing gold.  The object was still on the floor, but it’s aura was moving, morphing and creating a haze that shimmered and sparked.

And then everything went silent.

A strange hush fell over the land.  The thunder receded, the lightning calmed.  The rain let up.  As the temperature dropped even further, Keith hesitantly looked up from out of his arms.  Snow.  It made no sense.  There were no clouds.  The stars were still on full display, flinging themselves through the sky.  

No, not snow.  Ash.  The rain had turned to ash.  

The temperature was changing, dramatically.  What was cold before grew painful.  Keith shuddered violently, choking on the sudden change as it attacked his lungs.  Ice formed on his fingertips, over his hair.  When he tried to move, his clothes cracked.  

He blinked his eyes and cringed against the pain.  But, in the distance, he saw something coming: a solid wall of thick white was devouring the far desert, coating the earth as if a god was blowing their magic onto it.  

Ice.  The world was turning to ice.  It was coming his way.

He was going to die out there if he stayed.  

Keith fought against the stiffness of his limbs and the chains of the ice hardening his clothes as he stumbled from the ground.  He tripped and slipped onto the unforgiving floor.  His fingers and palms were bleeding from catching himself so many times, leaving a trail of his struggle behind.  He tried to grab the handle and pull, but it was jammed - frozen shut.

Desperately, he pounded on the door, screaming for help.  He roared over the chaos of the elements and the searing of the stars.  The world was ending.  The ice was feet away, devouring the floor around his feet.

“Someone!  Help me!”  He begged, thrashing against the door.

No one came.

_Save him_ , the stars cried. _Save him!_

He wasn’t sure if they were talking to him or about him.

The ice grabbed at his heels.

And then the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved and tucked in at night.
> 
> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me [on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	2. Chapter 2

He jerked awake, chest heaving.  

Confusion tangled up his mind and he just laid there for a few moments, stunned, not even able to register where he was.

“That must’ve been some dream,” someone said beside him.

He squinted through the darkness.  Who…?  

“It’s me,” they said, “your room mate.  Remember?”  He said his name again, but Keith couldn’t focus on that.

He turned his gaze back up to the ceiling.  His room.  His bed.  His pillow.  He had been dreaming.

Slowly, with effort, he pushed his stiff body up.  Everything, from the end of his toes all the way to the tips of his tallest hair, ached.  It felt as if he were made out of lead.  

His mind was still trapped somewhere else, following the trace of a whisper that pulled and stretched away from him - a dream slipping through the cracks between his fingers.  He reached for it until he caught it.

_Shiro..._

He’d heard that name before.

“You were crying out,” his roommate tried again. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”  He meant the words to be sharp and sturdy, but they were breathless.  Small.  Scared.

He cleared his throat.  His tone softened into something more like himself.  “I’m fine.”

“…Okay,” his roommate agreed in a tone that whispered, _liar_.  “You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.  First bell in ten minutes.”  And then he was gone.

Keith let out a long shaky breath.  What a horrible fucking dream.  Its hooks were still in him, pulling at his mind, the pounding of the ice and the booming of the thunder still more real to him than the monotony of reality.  The stars were still blinding him.

He turned his arms slowly in the still silence, looking for signs of bruises or burns.  Turning his palms upward, he sought out the blood he was certain he’d seen.

There was nothing.  His skin was intact.

A dream.  It had really been a dream.

His legs were raveled in his sheets so he slowly worked to untangle himself; it was slow going, each movement like acid gnawing at his joints.  He was dizzy and feverish and each minute movement made him feel like he would tumble off his bed.

It hadn’t felt like a dream.

It had been too vivid.  Too much.

It wasn't right.  In his heart, he just felt...

God, he didn’t know.  It was like he’d been taken into another dimension and everything he’d learned about earth was wrong.  

He had to check that roof.  He had to see.

Pulling his heavy body from his bed, he shoved some clothes on and pushed out of his room.  

When he made it to the door to the rooftop, he couldn't get it unlocked.  What had felt easy with his knife last night wasn’t working this time around.  He twisted it and pushed it; it wouldn’t budge.

Weird.  It was all weird.  

Forgetting that, he stood, rose his foot, and kicked the damn door down.

It was the same rooftop that greeted him, but the sky was another creature, innocently blue and soft with fluffy clouds.  The sun brought a gentle warmth with it and the breeze that greeted him was friendly.

It was the perfect day.  He could even hear the birds chirping in the distance, flitting merrily through the clouds, traveling across the horizon, deeper through the desert’s yellow plains.  Whatever he had seen last night simply hadn’t happened.

But he felt its touch still even if he couldn’t see it, like someone trying to hold him up as he fell.

“Dad?”  he whispered, voice small, chest heaving as he sought out answers in the sky.

Of course, no one answered.  No one was there.

Keith grit his teeth and clenched his hands tightly to his sides as he remembered himself.  He was being so stupid.  His dad was dead or gone and that was about what he could expect out of any answers too.  To expect anything would be stunningly naive.  He turned, slamming the door shut behind him.

It was the stress of things.  Moving from the orphanage and to the Garrison was a big step for it.  His brain needed time to adapt.  Just a bad dream.  That’s what was going on.  It was all in his head.  Of course.

He had to focus on reality.

He was running five minutes behind - that was it - but he remembered the day before, the looks of everyone’s faces in the crowd as he stood over Anthony and his friends, and he knew there would be no leniency for monsters.

When he opened the door to his classroom, trying to be discreet, it creaked loudly at its hinges. The teacher stopped mid-sentence and turned toward him sharply, narrowing his eyes to a perfect point right on Keith.  The whole class followed.

“…Sorry, sir,” he muttered, trying to unwind the cringing knot inside his chest.

He tsked.  “Take a seat, cadet.”

The atmosphere in the room was dark and heavy. Everyone was staring at him, teacher and students alike, their eyes ravenous and boring into him so deeply he swore there was physical pain in his chest. He was a wounded mouse under the watch of vultures.

Whispers rose into the air like noxious gas, nasty and cold, spoken through cupped hands and side-glances. Keith tensed.

All staring, all whispering, all leering, predatory slits for eyes.

It was too much. That awful sickness from the dream was still sitting in his bones and it brought every discomfort, minor or not, into sharp bitter focus.

The classroom was still buzzing with tittering and sneers when the door burst open.

“It’s Iverson!” The chatter whispered excitedly, every bright eye whipping around to Keith again, tense on the edge of their seat.

“Is Kogane in?” He asked the teacher, voice deep and rough.

The teacher pointed a pen in his direction. “I was just writing him up for being late.”

Iverson paused, a look of disdain on his face.

All he said was a foreboding, “come with me,” before walking out on a sharp quick march.  Keith felt like he had to run to keep up.

Iverson led Keith to his office, where he’d been before, only a few weeks ago, to be introduced.

“Full ride scholarship,” he had said then, just as he said now.  But before, his words had been full of pride and now they were muttered like a curse.

“A full ride scholarship,” Iverson repeated again, “and that flight sim score…and you throw it away like this. Getting into fights. Being late. You haven’t even completed an entire week here. Explain yourself.”

This was a battle that’d be lost no matter what he said. Heavily, with a voice that was ground down and grey, he said, “They got in my way and I removed them.”

Iverson was unimpressed. “Beating your fellow cadets to the ground…that’s what you call _removing_?”

Keith remained silent, looking down at the ground blearily, feeling like the years were slowly being chiseled away from his life.

“And being late?  I only just had you for orientation the other day so I know you can’t have forgotten so soon.  Not someone with your scores on the aptitude test for something so simple.”

“…I wasn’t feeling well this morning, sir.”

Iverson tsked, but as he stared at Keith, he seemed to soften a bit. “You’re dead on your feet, cadet, that much is apparent. Were you injured in the fight?”

“No, sir,” Keith muttered. Somehow it seemed a better alternative to _I had a bad dream._

Iverson sighed. “It was me who scouted you. I saw you and said, ‘that kid, he’s going to go places’. I presented your case to the board. I fought for you. How do you think that makes me look when you take our trust and faith and spit it back in our faces with five downed distinguished cadets?”

Keith swallowed hard. “It wasn’t meant to be a sleight to you. …It wasn’t meant to be a sleight to _anyone._ I just wanted to get to class and they wouldn’t let me through.”

Iverson chewed out, arching an eyebrow, “You didn’t think there might be other ways to handle a situation like that?”

“…I don’t know,” Keith murmured.

“Cadet, speak up,” Iverson commanded, voice going harsh.

“Sir. I apologize, sir. I know what I did was wrong. I won’t do it again.”

Iverson fitted Keith with his heavy gaze.  He let it sit there for a long uncomfortable moment, his stare weighing Keith down like gravity.  “I haven’t seen this kind of raw potential since Shirogane. Your scores rival his. I never thought I’d see that in my entire lifetime. How long did you say you’ve been flying for?”

“Um. Never. Sir.”

Iverson’s face pinched like he swallowed an entire lemon. “Unbelievable. This is unbelievable.” He shook his head darkly and let out a slow soul-weary sigh that seemed to go against every fiber of his being. “I can’t let you slip away like this. …This is your first and final warning. You’d better make it worth it for us. There will be conditions.”

Warily, Keith said, “Sir?”

“You’re going to stay,” Iverson said, reaching into his desk and pulling out a folder.  “This is for you.”

Keith reached for the folder, looking through the papers inside.  A list of duties in exchange for his place at the Garrison.  “...Thank you, sir.”

Iverson went back to massaging his temples. “Don’t thank me, thank Shirogane. He saw the fight break out and came to me immediately.  He vouched for you - said it wasn’t your fault.  It’s the only defense you have, but it’s a good one.  Shirogane has a lot of friends in high places so to speak.  Few would go against his word.”

Shirogane. The perfect, the one and only, Shirogane. So he had been there in that hallway and Keith hadn’t even known it.  And his spirit was still following Keith in Iverson’s room, working his magic on the higher ups.  His touch had spread even that far…  Keith couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed.  Bitterly, but still.

Iverson sighed.  “Anthony’s parents are part of the board. This is going to be hell.” He looked up at Keith again and then tapped his finger against the stack of papers. “You will have detention for the next three months, every day, no excuses. I don’t care if you’re vomiting up your left lung, you’ll be there. These lists of duties?  You’ll complete them all or leave, it’s your decision. It’ll be roughly an hour a day.”

Keith paled. He saw it consisted of mostly janitorial work, which was fine, but on top of what he was already doing, he’d be beyond exhausted. He was already exhausted.

“In addition, you’ll spend an hour a day with a teaching assistant. Think of it as a mentoring session from an older classman. It’ll be a good opportunity to learn some social skills and understand how things work around here.”

Two additional hours a day… Keith took in a deep breath, his mind blanking. “Yes, sir.”

“This is incredibly lenient considering the circumstances. You’re on thin ice. If I see you step one toe out of line, you’re gone. I don’t care who you are. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was his last chance; whether it sucked or not, Keith knew he had to take it. There was no home to go back to, no other road to take. He had nowhere else to go. It was this or nothing.  So he took it.

Maybe it’d be good.  Maybe the mentoring sessions, at least, would be somewhat helpful.  

But whatever optimism he grasped for faded quickly.  It wasn’t just the students, but the teachers who hated him.  It wasn’t that they spat on his desk or snarled at him, but their smiles would drop from their faces when they saw him coming through the hallways, or they’d be quick to yell at him to pay attention if he turned his gaze out the window.  They wouldn’t do that to anyone else.

Keith kept his mouth shut and obeyed but he could feel it like a weight over his head.  One boulder wasn’t too heavy, but add another, and another, and more, and many, and suddenly, he was being crushed.

He liked the education though, and he always looked forward to days when they’d practice in the flight sim.  He only ever got better as he became more familiar with things that hadn’t come to him with pure intuition.  For those few moments, flying through the sky, he could let himself leave the Garrison behind.  All of his baggage fell off his shoulders as he spread his wings and flew.

It was even worth all the glares he’d get as he exited the sim each time.  It was worth feeling a bit like some prized pig as he’d look from his scowling peers and see, up in the second story window, teachers and upperclassmen gathering.

“There he is.”  He heard the crowd chattering in awed whispers more than once as he exited the sim.  They looked up to the second story, stars in their eyes.  “There’s Shiro.”

Goddamn Shiro.  

Keith would tilt his head, eyes scanning the crowd in the second story as they watched him back like some sort of specimen.  He wasn’t sure which one Shiro was but maybe he didn’t want to know.  Keith would bet that, when Shiro first soared through the sky in the flight sim, his entire class didn’t pitch a fit and mark him as their enemy.  Bitterly, Keith wished that he knew Shiro’s secret.  How did he tame the beast?  Realistically, Keith understood the secret was just to not be himself.

As it turned out, his mentor was a friend of Anthony, the guy Keith punched so hard he had lost three of his teeth.  But Keith had also heard that Anthony had gone deaf in one ear from one single punch, so he wasn’t sure what to really believe.  Anthony was quite dramatic and also, unfortunately, quite popular.  His friends were the worst.

The first day Keith met her, he endured several minutes of dead murderous silence before she leaned forward and spat, “You’re never going to make it here, you know that?  Anthony’s parents basically own the place.  Iverson may think he can do whatever he wants, but the board will never approve this decision.  Enjoy your last few days while you can.  You look like just a piece of trash anyway, I don’t know how you thought you could ever belong here.”

It was true, he didn’t look like them.  He didn’t know what it was he was missing, but he just knew whatever _it_ was, he didn’t have.  He lacked the uptight grace, the poise, the careful icy stares that the others had.  Keith said, voice flat, “the board has already approved the decision.”

She balked, breath cutting sharply into her lungs and staying there.  When she recovered from her surprise, she breathed out bitterly, “What a joke the Garrison’s becoming.”

Keith just watched.

“Oh, nothing to say, huh?”  She demanded.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t think you understand. Respond when I talk to you or I leave.  If I leave, you can’t complete your work here and then you’re let go.  I’m your boss now. You listen to me.  Your fate is in my hands.”

She was a royal bitch, but that wasn’t even the worst part.  The worst part was the pain.

When it came, too late in the night for Keith’s aching body, sleep brought more nightmares. A jumbled mess of ambiguous hurt and stabbing fear.  Scattered voices.  His heart bursting with desperate longing.  Figures would shift to his left and to his right as he laid out, vulnerable and at their mercy.  He’d beg with them, rationalize, try to get them to understand, but they ignored him.  He was trapped.  He was powerless.

The dreams only seemed to get sharper each night, the pain and fear growing.  It wore him out.

On one such night, he jolted awake already panting.  He clung to his arms and shrugged his shoulders forward in hopes that’d loosen the tightness of his muscles in his back.

It was still dark out and his roommate was snoring softly. The raging agony from his dream was sticking with him, roaring in his ears, the fever smeared across his face.

He sat with his blankets tangled around his legs until the night’s chill found him again and the sweat along his forehead had mostly dried.  He felt unbearable loneliness, vulnerable and weak-minded from exhaustion.  He needed sleep.  Dreamless sleep.  

But there was nothing to be done.  There was no one to bring him comfort, no magic cure to rid him of this hell.  He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

The next dream came as he expected, but there was no pain.  It was strange and overwhelming in a different way: too full of color, too sharp in detail.  He expected more shooting stars, more muffled voices he didn’t understand, but what he got was ice.  Ice, ice, ice, as far as the eye could see.  Mountains of it rolled out as if it were another world.  

Something felt wrong though.  Menacing in a way that a block of ice should simply not be.  It wasn’t hailing down or cracking open to swallow him whole.  It was just…ice, and yet, Keith’s heart rate was jumping, his palms were sweating.  He didn’t feel right.  Something was going to happen, but what?

“Hello?”  He whispered, looking around himself.  

He walked slowly, care in each of his steps.  The suit he was wearing was too big and heavy.  It felt like it was suffocating him and he shifted antsily against it.  

“Is anybody there?”  He tried again.

An intercom in his helmet clicked.  “Huh?  What’s up?  You find something?”

Keith rearranged his helmet, arms shaking.  No one had actually responded to him before.  “What?  Who is this?”

The person on the other end laughed and made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.  “My dad will kill us if he finds out we keep joking on the mission.  Stop distracting me.  Seriously, you got something, or do I have to turn off your feed again?”

Keith was breathing hard as he started to jog through the ice, trying to find anything or anyone.  He turned his head this way and that.  There was just nothingness.  It felt so _strange_ and _wrong_ in his gut.  Even though the voice in his helmet was totally at ease, he couldn’t feel content.  It was like something was watching him, creeping closer, but all he could see was darkness and ice.  “What’s happening?”  He breathed in panic.  “Where am I?  Something’s not right.”

“...What?  Shiro?  You okay?”

He woke up again, covered in sweat... _again_.  God, he felt so gross in his own body.

Had the voice called him Shiro?  The golden boy?  Keith was having dreams about him now?

The school was just fucking with his head.  Compared to the golden boy of the Garrison, but hated for his skill instead, of course Keith’s subconscious would wonder about him.

But...Keith couldn’t help but think of those stars on the rooftop.  It was hard to discredit it as a dream.  Those stars had felt like people.  Familiar.   _Soulmates,_ his roommate had said, and Keith wondered for a moment if that might be true.

He sighed and got ready for class, full out ignoring the probing questions from his roommate about his supposed dramatic yelling match with Iverson that resulted in expulsion and the police coming to cart Keith away.

He was always drained lately, but he felt even worse after the dream.

He deep breathed all throughout his first period class.

He survived his second period class by biting the end of his pencil.

Third period, he massaged the wrinkle in between his brows that wouldn’t even out no matter how hard he tried.  He adamantly ignored the girls who were giggling about Shiro, talking about how his shirt fit his chest _just right_.

Between third and fourth, he went to the old bathroom on the second floor that was out of the way.  It was always empty, just how he wanted it.  He slipped into a stall, kicked the lid down, sat, and shoved his face in his hands and breathed.

Just breathed, or tried, at least.  The best he could manage was that of a dying man’s gasp.  Out and in, out and in.  He wheezed as he sucked in air.

So many hostile people. So much homework. So many hours left in his day and he was fucking tired, but of course there wouldn’t be enough hours left to sleep, peaceful and without nightmares.

He didn’t think he could take much more.

It was work, work, work, with no reprieve.  It was drowning without air.  How long could he endure before he succumbed?

He swallowed it down.

When his breathing normalized, he got up and checked his face in the mirror for any signs of weakness.  Once he was as satisfied as he’d ever be, he pushed open the bathroom door and went to his fourth period.  He kept his eyes focused on the small dot of marker on the board that the teacher had missed.  Focused on it.  He focused on it.  Held it.  

By lunch, he was ill.

Eating was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed fuel or he wouldn’t make it.  Maybe literally.  He already felt like he had one foot in death’s door.

And, of course, the lunch being served was macaroni and cheese, one of his least favorites.  It was what they’d basically raised him on in the orphanage.  It was like a sign or something: nothing was ever going to change.

He grabbed a bowl of it because the other meals were reserved for people who actually had money, and he turned to find a nice corner to shove himself into.  

Most of the cafeteria was full already, but there were several good ending seats that were open.  He locked on one, walking down the middle of the tables.

He should’ve expected it.  There was always something sharp in the air right before, a hush, a wave of anticipation in the eyes of hungry wolves.  It was a dirty simple trick that was common in Keith’s life growing up.  He was usually better than it.

One second, he was walking down the aisle, pathway totally clear, and the next, his foot caught.  

He tripped.

Someone had stuck their foot out at the last second, right as he passed by.  On a good day, it wouldn’t have been a problem; his reflexes were not shit.  But it had _not_ been a good day; his reflexes had clocked out hours ago.  

So he fell.

It wasn’t just a small stumble or a trip where he caught himself on his knees or even his elbows.  No.  His tray flung from his hands, macaroni flinging high into the air, sloshing out of the bowl and splaying everywhere - in front of him, over him.  He didn’t even have time to shout.  He met the floor with his face where it smacked loudly against tile.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent.  He could hear only the sound of macaroni falling and then the inevitable sad clang of the bowl hitting the ground, harsh and unforgiving.  

He had one second to try to comprehend what had just happened when, as if on cue, everyone broke into laughter.  

It was loud and everywhere, all around him, getting through his skin and jabbing itself straight into his heart.  He was weak, weak, weak.  He should’ve listened when the others at the orphanage had laughed at him for dreaming a dream too big.  But he had thought he was better than their doubts, that he could handle it.  He had been such a fool.

He stayed on the floor, arms and legs splayed out, breathing hard into the ground, wishing for… _something_.  Wishing the earth would open wide and swallow him whole.  Wishing that the ice world from his dreams was actually real and could just freeze him on the spot to put him out of his misery.

He wished he were anywhere but there.  

He could feel as his throat tightened and his breath caught in his throat.  His eyes began to burn.  

God, no.  He couldn’t cry.  Not in front of these animals.  He couldn’t let them know that they got him.  Not here, not like this.  

Keith gathered the last scraps of his strength, braced himself, and tried to pry himself from the floor.  

His arms shook from the emotional strain, his head hung.  His fingers slipped through that awful orange goo and he fell forward again, face-first into the floor.

Total defeat.  

He wouldn’t be able to do it.  He might as well just fucking die here.  Jesus.

“Here,” a voice parted through the laughter.  Close, soft, kind.  “Let me help you.”  

Before Keith could say anything, warm hands were heaving him up by the armpits.  He was like a helpless puppy dog as he stared, dumbstruck.

The cafeteria lights hanging on the roof lit up the officer’s head like a halo. It was actually there. A halo over his glorious head.

Keith was looking up, heavenward, into the face of the beloved Takashi Shirogane.

Keith didn’t have to ask his name to know.  He immediately understood the rumors.

Golden Boy Takashi Shirogane was smiling slightly, eyes cringing only in heartfelt concern as he tilted his head and asked something, his mouth softly forming over words.  Keith didn’t hear the question, he was too busy looking.

Keith was not one to look. When he saw a person’s face he didn’t see the color of their eyes, or the fullness of their lips, or the shape of their brow. He saw that leering of their hatred, the greed bleeding out of their hearts and smearing their faces, a blur of colors, wrong and off-putting where features should be.

He was bad with faces; he never saw the point in remembering.  It had been years since Keith looked at a face and saw.

There was just something about him.  Maybe it was his aura, like Keith had initially noticed - golden and pure.  Maybe it was his gentle smile, easy and believable.  Maybe it was the way his eyes were shaped, like two perfect almonds gazing down at Keith, soft and genuine.  Maybe it was because he was the only clean thing kneeling in a scene filled with orange goo, hand extended, not afraid to get marred himself.

Or maybe it was none of those things and he was just actually, literally an angel. All Keith knew was that he was seeing like it was for the first time.

He was beautiful.

“What are you doing?” Some girl cried in horror behind him, breaking Keith out of his spell.

He had forgotten himself.  He was still half-laying in a mess of macaroni, in the middle of a cafeteria filled with students all looking and laughing at him, the butt of the joke.

“Shiro, you don’t have to help him,” someone else sneered.  “He deserves it.  Just leave him.”

Shiro tsked, turning sharply to face everyone.  His voice rose above the crowd.  “Alright, the show’s over.  You should all be ashamed of yourselves; he’s part of the Garrison, just like any of you.  Each and every one of you are behaving worse than children.”

The laughter died down, but the eyes were careful, waiting.  Keith was downed prey.

“Everyone, return to what you were doing,” Shiro commanded.  To Keith’s surprise, they listened, even if their eyes slanted to check for more excitement, they turned bodily away.

Keith pulled himself to his feet shakily, smacking the rest of the macaroni off his clothes in a rush.

“Here,” Shiro said, outstretched hand following him, as if he were afraid Keith might fall again.  “Let me help you.”

Keith’s hands were covered in mess.  Shiro’s were still clean somehow, his temper perfectly calm, his smile patient, like he wasn’t bothered by his ridiculous appearance at all.  Keith probably had macaroni sticking out of his hair.  

Keith had to tilt his head to stare up into Shiro’s face.  It made him feel very small, not just physically.  He had never needed help from anyone.  Anyone.  He was fine on his own.  He could take care of himself.  He was the only one he could rely and trust.  But then this...this perfect being had to come swooping in like Keith was some damsel in distress.  The thought was absolutely repulsive.

“This wasn’t right,” Shiro said softly, his tone kind.  “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Shiro said it sadly.  It shouldn’t happen to _you_ , like Keith was some doll that was already shattered, like his heart looked as brittle on the outside as it actually was on the inside.

It horrified Keith to be seen through so easily.

He had never felt so humiliated in all of his life, so out of place.  Standing next to this god, a laughable comparison, and feeling far too vulnerable, his fangs came out.  He hissed, yanking his arm angrily away, staring wide-eyed at Shiro,  “ _I don’t need your help._ ”

Shiro’s eyes widened slightly.  A pained look settled across his brow as he let his hand rest back at his side.  “…Okay.  Are you alright?”

Keith barked out a bitter laugh.  He tossed his arms wide, spraying the rest of his macaroni everywhere.  It would almost be funny if he didn’t feel the agony in his chest.  “Does it look like I’m alright?  I’m fine.  Perfect, in fact.  Another great day at the Garrison.”

“…They shouldn’t have done that,” Shiro said firmly.  “Please, let me -”

“Fuck off,” Keith hissed, stumbling backwards before Shiro could reach out to him again.  “I don’t need you.  I don’t need anyone.  The Garrison sucks and so do all of you, no matter what fake mask you wear, _hero_.”

With one last glare at Shiro and the rest of the cafeteria, Keith turned sharply on his heel, leaving the mess in the middle of the aisle.

When Keith looked over at the person who had tripped him, he met dark laughing eyes.

It was his mentor.

 

He just wanted to leave the room.  Though Shiro had silenced them, he couldn’t stop their eyes from watching his every move.  But he was stopped at the door and sent away.  They weren’t allowed out during lunch.

Pissed, he redirected his route to the bathroom, his one refuge, found a sink and stripped his jacket off, rinsing it off the best he could.  He plucked the cheese from his hair and dabbed at the spots on his pants.  It was a fucking mess.  A terrible patch job.  He smelled horrible.  Cleaning was useless.

It was worse when a group of people came into the bathroom, laughing and rough-housing.  The sound bounced off the walls and ruined his hideout, forcing him to grudgingly back out.  

He slipped into the darkest most discreet corner in the cafeteria, shoving his bag onto the table, resting his head on it and wishing he could just disappear.  The fight faded out of him, replaced with defeated numbness.

He was halfway in limbo when a gentle hand ghosted across his shoulder.

His knife was stuffed in his back pocket and his hand twitched for it.  He had to remind himself that the comfort a few moments with his knife would bring would not equate to the rest of his future without the Garrison.

It wasn’t Anthony or his goons. It was Shiro.  Again.  He didn’t fucking give up.

He was smiling somehow, head tilted as his eyes searched Keith’s face. “Hey.  I brought you something.”

Keith was so fucking tired.

He grunted, feeling an irrational spike of irritation when he saw the bowl of macaroni and cheese in Shiro’s hand.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met.  I’m Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls me Shiro around here.  This is my friend Matt.  We’re your welcoming committee.”  He said everything cheerfully as if earlier simply hadn’t happened.  

Keith frowned, readying his words to scare Shiro away.  His dislike deepened as this so-called Matt couldn’t contain his laughter and he squeaked out, “welcoming committee?”

Keith blinked at that voice, temporarily forgetting himself.  As tired as his mind was, he recognized it even if he knew he’d never seen this Matt before in his life.  He had heard it in his dream.

“Shut up,” Shiro muttered lowly, elbowing Matt in the arm.

Shiro returned to smiling brightly, looking at Keith.  He set the bowl of food on the table beside him.  “Here.  For you.”

“What...?”  Keith muttered, rearing away from it, tension running through his back.  He looked from Shiro to Matt, from Matt to Shiro.

“It wasn’t nice what they did.  It’s not how the Garrison works and I want you to know that.”

“Did you not hear me earlier?  I said I was fine,” Keith grit out.  “I don’t need handouts like some beggar.  Take it back.”

“You’re not going to eat?”

Raising an eyebrow, Keith said, words sharp and barbed, “Does it look like I’m going to eat it?”

A patient smile.  As Keith realized Shiro wasn’t going to rise to the bait, guilt that was already there struck through him a little harder.  But he needed to hold steady.  He needed to cut clean whatever Shiro thought _this_ was.  

Shiro’s voice was so smooth, so in control, in complete contrast to what Keith was dealing with inside.  He said, “Iverson’s told me your situation, so I know you have a long day ahead of you. You should try to eat. Your body needs fuel.”

Shiro looked like a puppy dog standing over Keith with wide honest eyes.  Too honest.  Too kind.  Pushy because this was a trap, had to be.

Keith tsked. _A ploy_ , his mind whispered because it knew better than to trust. To trust meant to make your heart vulnerable to be stabbed straight through. Abandon. Hurt.

His father's back flashed through his mind, leaving, never to return.

Keith turned away.

“Did you eat breakfast?”

His stomach had felt like the stormy oceans of hell in the morning. He hadn’t been able to risk it. He didn’t answer.

“Do you not have any money?” Shiro asked.

“I have money. I’m fine.  I already _told you_.  Fuck.  Off.” The words were harsh and hard. Keith didn’t even look at him.

There was a pause. Keith could faintly make out Shiro’s friend murmuring softly, “okay, what are you doing?  He’s definitely not interested; let’s just get out of here”.

Relief began to flood through Keith as he realized he’d get to be alone again, but then there was a soft rustle and then the bench he was sitting on jolted beneath weight.

With wide incredulous eyes, Keith looked beside him.  So close that Keith had to jerk back to see him, Shiro had sat at his side. He was big standing, sure, everyone could see that, but seated right beside Keith, he was a giant. Keith felt very small and very young beside him.  Very filthy, inside and out.

He wanted to run.  His every instinct told him to dart.  But for some reason, he couldn’t, completely rooted to the spot.

“Here,” Shiro said, voice firm again. But not angry, never angry.  Shiro scooted the bowl over to Keith.

It was so orange.

“No, I don’t want it,” Keith stated, voice equally as firm, but not even a quarter as kind.

“Your superior officer’s orders,” Shiro said, tapping the side of the bowl with his finger. “I’m just kidding.”  And then, softer, “do you hate macaroni and cheese? I can get you something else.”

Keith was frowning so hard it hurt his forehead. “ _No_.”

A relieved smile broke out on Shiro’s face. “Good. It’s my favorite.”

“Thank god. You passed the test,” Matt said, hesitantly taking a seat beside Shiro, flashing Keith a nervous look. “If you had said you’d hated it, Shiro would’ve had to abandon you.”

“That’s not true,” Shiro chuckled. “But -”

“-Ah, there’s that ‘but’ -”

“- I think what kind of foods people eat says a lot about them as people.”

“And if you hate macaroni and cheese what kind of monster are you?”

“Exactly.”

Keith interrupted abruptly. “I don’t want to eat. I feel sick.”

Shiro turned back to him, concern spread wide across his features. Still, so damn honest. His heart was there, displayed for all to see, so open to be hurt. Keith flinched away.

“I’ll get you something else,” Shiro said, already halfway out of his seat and peering over at the glass food cases.

“No,” Keith said. “No, I don’t need anything.”  He couldn’t say why, but panic was rising with him again like a storm.  He hated this.  He hated interacting with people.  He hated them pushing him.  “I don’t need you coddling me!  Just _leave me alone_ .  Jesus.  I’m fine.  Everything’s fine.  Now just - _fuck off_.”  

His voice broke halfway through and he cringed away, wishing he could just die.

Shiro and his friend went silent and still.  Shiro was looking at him, gazing at him with a serious face for once, eyes searching, wondering.

Keith was breathing hard, feeling like a wild animal. His face was flushed with anger and he was clawing at the table, body tense and ready to sprint.

This wasn’t the way to behave around people, especially his superiors who had a hand in his fate, who had gone out of their way to help him not just once, but several times now.

But logic wasn’t in control anymore. His heart was bleeding out and into him and there was nothing he could do to stopper it. He couldn’t fix it.  Control was squirming out of his hands.

Slowly, Shiro sat, a thoughtful look on his face. His friend was still quiet, leaving his food to get cold.

Pursing his lips, Shiro stared hard into the table. Keith could basically see the thoughts forming into words in Shiro’s head.

He nodded slowly to himself and then said, “Macaroni and cheese or vegetable soup. Which one?”

Keith thought he’d lose it right then and there. He slammed his fists against his bag.  His throat tore with his agony.  “Why won’t you just _leave me alone_ ? I’m not a child!  I didn’t ask for you to feed me like one!  What’s your fucking deal?  Why can’t you just fucking _listen to me_ ?  Leave.  Me.  Alone.  Get it?  Can you comprehend that?  Or can you not hear over your fucking _golden aura_?”

Keith’s anger gave him false courage.  He used it to stare Shiro down. He waited for Shiro to grab the bowl and dump it over his head, or to shove him out of his seat to the floor. To yell at him.  To laugh at him and curse him and spit at his shoes. To get angry, really angry, and forsake him. That was what people did.  Keith was good at pushing them to that point.

Shiro did none of those things. Surprise flickered across his face for a split second before softening.  He held steady, looking completely comfortable in his seat, as if this were something he did all the time - have ridiculous standoffs with angry teenage boys about whether or not they’d eat their macaroni and cheese.

Why wouldn’t he leave?  Why weren’t Keith’s usual tactics working?  Shiro just stared at him, pity in his eyes, as if seeing through all the anger and hatred, looking right into his heart.

And there, faintly, he was smiling.  It was soft and accepting and kind.  It wasn’t the least bit obnoxious or mocking.  It was the sort of smile that said, “it’s okay. Take your time. When you find your answer, I’ll be here.”  It was the smile that looked right into him, past his defenses.  He was seeing everything in Keith.

This had to be some sort of sick joke.

Keith wanted to break that smile. He didn’t even know Shiro. Shiro didn’t even know him.

It could be a trap, it could be a ruse, it was a lie probably.

But god. Somehow he just… He just…

That face.

The innocent honest eyes.

The unassuming angelic smile.

All of it.

The more he stared, the more his blood cooled.

He felt that tenderness melting away at the cold frozen defenses of his heart.  They had been iced over for who knows how long, and before he could force himself not to, he was caving in. Crumbling, a little at first, and then all at once.

Him. Keith. Caving.

The last bits of rage in his chest swooped out of him.  With an angry tsk, Keith snatched the bowl and scraped it across the table to the spot in front of him. It made a horrible noise on its journey there and several students turned from their seats to glare.  He grabbed the fork and stabbed into it angrily, jamming it into his mouth pointedly.  

Shiro smiled softly, producing a napkin out of nowhere and setting it beside Keith with a happy flourish. With one content hum, he turned to his friend and started talking as if nothing had even happened.

“You’re a lunatic,” Shiro’s friend was saying to him under his breath. He was trying to be quiet, but Keith’s ears were sharp from years of being whispered about. “Do you know that?  What are you _doing_?  You’re going to get yourself killed.  I hope it’s worth it to you.”

_Of course_ , Keith thought bitterly as he shoved the macaroni and cheese into his mouth and chewed with short mechanical bites. Everyone wanted something. Shiro was no different.

But the joke was on him; it wasn’t like Keith had anything to give in the first place.  

“How are you liking your classes so far?”  Shiro asked kindly as he turned back to Keith.  

Keith took a deep breath.  Nodded.

“I’m a teacher’s assistant for Iverson; he told me that you’re doing a bit of work after class.  It’s not too bad, is it?”

Keith prayed for patience.  After a few moments of letting his spiking temper cool, he muttered out a short, “no.”

“I imagine it’s tiring...”  

Keith continued to chew mechanically.  

An awkward silence nagged at them.

Shiro cleared his throat, pushing away his friend who was making faces of warning at him.  “How do you like your mentor?”

Keith couldn’t help the bitter laughter that bubbled from him.  “Oh, she’s just great.”

“...Why do you say it like that?”

Keith had no words.  He jerked his arms wide, smiling bitterly and showing off the orange mess all over him.  Another short harsh laugh left him before he went back to eating.

Shiro was quiet for a moment.  His voice was hushed.  “...She did this to you...?”

He just shot Shiro a weary look and then went back to quietly eating.

There was another gap of silence as Shiro and Matt shared a glance.  Keith ignored it.  This shitshow would be entertaining from a distant standpoint, he got it.  

He turned back to Keith, sitting up straight, face serious, smile gone from his face for once.  “Are you going to tell Iverson?”

“Why?”  Keith grunted.

“‘Why’?”

“Even if he switches the mentor out, it’ll just be the same.  I’ll just endure it.  It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Shiro said.  

Keith looked over, confused.

“It’s not fine,” he said again, voice low.  “I want to help you.”

It felt uncomfortable.  No one was really that nice.  Keith knew, but didn’t protest.  He was tired.

So he just ate.  And he had to admit, even if he’d never admit it out loud, he felt a lot better after eating, even if it was too orange and too familiar.

 

He didn’t expect anything at all out of Shiro’s offer.  

Feet dragging, he made his way from his last period to his mentoring session, dreading the time and just thinking of how soft his bed felt, only a few minutes walk away.

He swung the door open.

And stopped.

Sitting where that lady had sat only a day before, was Shiro, leaning his cheek on one elbow and reading a packet of something on the desk.  The light was streaming in from the window up above, lighting him up gently like the gods approved.

He was even more beautiful each time Keith saw him, and he realized, with a sour feeling developing in his stomach, that seeing Shiro made the knot of tension in his chest unwind slightly.

Nothing did that to him before.  It made him uneasy.  A conundrum.

Keith wrinkled his nose, striding forward as if this were his space and Shiro was trying to steal it.  “What are you doing here?”

Shiro looked up, eyes unguarded and innocent, as they had been every time Keith had seen him.  Like a child.  If only everyone could be so naive without consequence.

The smile that grew on Shiro’s face as the sight of Keith was breathtaking.  Even in Keith’s stubborn state, he felt his heart flutter.  He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms tightly to try to hide the sound of his heart beating.

“Good afternoon, Keith.  How were your last few classes?”

“Great,” Keith said dryly.  He nodded toward Shiro.  “What are you doing here?  Where’s the other lady?”

“Emmy.  She won’t be mentoring you anymore, I will.  I talked with Iverson and arranged my schedule around a bit.  He’s fine with it.  What do you think?”

Keith was negative by nature, distrustful and suspicious.  Always.  But there was just something about Shiro.  Keith’s natural reflex to protest melted on his lips.

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it for a moment, going over his options, trying to find any reason why it wouldn’t be okay.

“If you think it won’t work out, that’s fine.  We can think of another alternative.”

He nodded uncertainly and said, voice low and cautious, “…We can try it out.”

“Great,” Shiro said, sounding almost a little breathless with relief.  He stretched back in his chair and hummed happily.  Bouncing back to the desk, he patted right in front of him.  “Bring a chair up.  Let me see what kind of homework you’re working on.”

“You any good?”  Keith rose an eyebrow.  He always trusted himself first and foremost, and then let the pieces fall where they would as far as others were concerned.

Shiro’s responding smile was patient and amused.  “We’ll just have to learn to trust each other I think.  Try me.”

They didn’t call Shiro the golden boy for nothing.  As it turned out, Shiro was the definition of intelligent.  And the good kind, Keith thought, not the kind that shoved it up everyone's noses.

Shiro was the soft kind of intelligent, who trusted himself and was willing to help others.  The kind who tried to use it for the good of everyone and not to simply brag.

Whatever it was that Shiro wanted in return for all this, he didn’t mention during their session. When they finished Keith’s homework, he talked, the task effortless for him.  He spoke mostly about the flight simulator and certain teachers he liked or didn’t like, handing out advice like he was used to it.  Just running through a list he was familiar with.

Keith tried to listen at first.  He entertained himself by watching the way Shiro’s forelock swung over his forehead during Shiro’s animated chatter.  Or trying to pick out the many different Shiro-smiles that blessed his face.  They were all radiant, all gorgeous, but there were subtle differences that were hard to pick out.  

As time ran on, Keith found himself getting sleepy.  Shiro’s voice was smooth as silk and as comforting as.  He thought it might not be so bad to drift off, but then he thought of the pain he had experienced in sleep the night before and it made him queasy again. His arm ached at the memory of it.

“You okay?” Shiro’s smooth voice broke through his thoughts.

Keith didn’t have the energy to gather any heat.  Instead, the question pained him.  How long had it been since someone had asked him that and meant it?  He couldn’t even remember.  “…Yeah,” he said, words soft and lost.

The frown in Shiro’s brow deepened, but he didn’t push. They fell into a silence that wasn’t as painfully uncomfortable as it could’ve been, both preoccupying themselves with the textbooks in front of them.

When the hour was up, Keith collected his things and shoved them in his bag.

“My friends and I are going to the pizza place in town after this. Want to come?”

Huh?  Keith rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and frowned. He looked up at Shiro, trying to scope out the deceit. Maybe that was what was going on.  Lure the new kid out into town for some horrible prank.

Keith wouldn’t fall for it again.  He said bluntly, “Can’t. Detention.”

Shiro blinked. “Oh, yeah. I guess this isn’t all you have to do…  You have that everyday, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro scratched the back of his head, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

Keith sighed, shuffling his feet. Time ticked past.

“Can I go?” He asked finally.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course. Sorry, was just thinking.”

“Mmhmm.  Later.”

Scrubbing school toilets was disgusting and tiring. This wasn’t what he had expected from the Garrison and Keith had made it his best skill to have low expectations from the beginning.

Three months. That was all. He could be tortured for three months; he’d live through it.

He was bitter, but he was still Keith, so he did the best he could. The toilets were sparkling afterward.

He went to the communal showers, which were hardly any better than the showers at the orphanage and found the best corner he could, stripping and setting his knife on the ledge. It was late, but there were still several cadets there, having just come from the gym or their afternoon out on the town.

The warm water was just about the only good part of his days besides flying. There was something gentle about it, maternal almost, like being in a safe place. He could stay there forever. He let himself soak for longer than he probably should've and by the time he was done, most everyone was gone.

Keith had just finished when he heard a familiar voice coming in. Discreetly, Keith ducked out of the way and hid behind the divider.

Shiro was with friends again, talking in his pleasant confident manner, as he did.

Keith quickly dried his hair and tugged his pajamas on. Of course, _of course_ he had to choose the stall at the very end of the bathrooms. He waited, hoping Shiro would choose a stall where he could sneak past quietly.  Shiro chose the one right beside him.

There were curtains, but they sucked, and one unfortunate stroke of luck would have Keith spotted.

“I can’t believe you invited him to pizza,” Shiro’s friend said from another stall.

“Matt, I told you to stop talking about it.”

“I think you were killing him slowly at lunch. Probably lost ten years off his life. I can’t imagine he’d want to experience that every meal.”

“God...  I just want to help.  You remember what it was like to be new here. I remember rescuing your head out of a few trash cans back in the day.”

“Hey. I was fine in those trash cans. I liked it in there. Cozy.”

“I’ll leave you in them next time, then,” Shiro said dryly.

“Besides, he looks like he's the one who will be _putting_ people in trash cans.”

“I told you already, Anthony and his gang started it first. I saw it.  He didn't want to fight.”  And then, “he looks lost.”

Keith continued crouching in bewilderment, the pushing need to escape forgotten.

“I think you mean ‘he looks pretty’.”

“No. Well. I mean. You’re not wrong.”

“’You’re not wrong’”, Matt mimicked in a high pitched voice.  He switched to overdramatized falsetto.  “Oh, Keith, you’re so gorgeous.  I don’t care if you just murdered full grown men double your size.  With your big blue eyes and shiny soft black hair, how could I resist?  I want my hands all over your tiny little shoulders!  Kiss me, Keith!  Kiss me!”

“Stop it.  You’re disgusting and you’re being ridiculous.  And besides, his eyes are purple, not blue.”

“Purple?  How much were you staring at him today?”

There was a shuffle and then a low bang of what sounded like a shampoo bottle hitting against tile.

“Ow!  You’re invading my personal space!”

“You asked for it!  It’s not about that, you know that.  I’ve seen his file.  I've see him on the sim.  He’s brilliant.  A genius maybe. But he needs to be able to utilize it and if he gets kicked out of the Garrison, what then? I just want to help.” And then, guiltily, “…You really think he hated us sitting with him? At lunch, I mean.”

“I dunno, Shiro. He didn’t look happy about it, that’s for sure. The kid’s expressions would’ve killed a lesser man than you.”

“Maybe he’s shy.”

Matt snorted. “Yeah, that’s what that was. Just a severe case of the resting bitch face.”

“You never know.  He looked upset.  He had no one.”

There was a low clunk of the shower being turned off, followed by another. “Look. I know you’re trying to help and I appreciated it back when I was in trouble. But you don’t need to take in every little stray -”

“-It’s not like that -”

“-just because they look damaged. Shiro. You can’t save everyone.”

“Maybe all he needs is a friend.”

A dramatic pitying sigh. “Stray cat. Just saying.”

Shiro sighed too. “Am I being that bad?”

“If the kid needs your help, he’ll ask. I’d just hate for you to be caught up in his mess. He doesn't look nice.  You conveniently keep forgetting that he knocked out five people in under a minute. No matter how hard you might’ve been dazzled by that, it’s not a good sign.”

“Matt -”

“Tut, tut. Disaster.”

“He didn’t even start that fight!”

Matt lowered his voice. “But he sure as hell finished it. Have you seen Anthony’s face? Did you?”

“…No.”

“See it first and then defend him. Seriously.  Though I heard his skull was cracked open and bleeding out slowly from his eyes so he had to go back home.”

“Is that even a thing?  That sounds like it’s not a thing.”

The curtain slid. “Come on, let’s go. I downloaded another game last night and have been dying to try it out. I’ll even let you have the green controller.”

“Wow. What’s the special occasion?”

“Your ridiculous rejected puppy dog eyes, that’s what. I feel bad for you.”

“Come on, Matt.”

“So much pity.”

Shiro was laughing. “Seriously.”

Their voices receded until they were no more.

Keith took a deep breath in through the silence.

Trouble. Disaster. Damaged. Murderer.  That sounded about right.

He wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t mean his stomach didn’t twist and clench at the words.

He stayed there, kneeling against the side of the shower stall, letting his mind buzz blankly, unhappily, until someone walked in, squawking when they almost ran into him.

Startled, Keith grabbed his bag and ran.

 

Again with the damn dreams. Again with the pain lancing up his arm, chewing away at his shoulder, making him wake in the middle of the night, sweating and hot and miserable.

He was in the ice world again.  He had been flung into it already terrified, running for his life from something.  

It wasn’t enough.  He was too slow, too weak, too _human_.

"Matt!"  He heard himself crying, breathless.  There was real terror in his voice.  " _Sam_!"

And suddenly, the ground separated from his feet and he was floating, being dragged upwards, away from land, as if the floor had tilted upside down; gravity betraying him. 

He realized for the first time that there were stars in the sky, watching him mutely, completely still.  He cried out, desperately reaching out for anything to cling to, but there was only nothingness.  His struggles were in vain.  

The worst part was the fear, burning through him like fire, consuming all of him.  The not knowing, being ripped of someplace without permission and moved, forcibly, against your will.

Where was he going?  Why was this happening?

He woke up with a cry, his entire body shaking.

When morning came, he met it with a snarl. Something felt off about himself - more than usual at least - but he couldn’t place it, wrote it off as being completely sleep deprived and delirious.

He was mostly thankful when Shiro didn’t show up to harass him during lunch. It wasn’t until he was finished with classes and walking to his session with Shiro when he realized why he felt so off balance.

His knife.

He had forgotten his knife the night before when he'd run from the bathroom.

He froze, blood going cold. Out of all the things to forget…

And just like that, he was running to the shower stalls.

If someone had taken it -

If it was gone -

It was the last thing he had of his father. The very last thing.

Keith didn’t even know what he’d do.

He bit his lip, screeching into the bathrooms.

No one was there and the lights were off.  He pressed forward to the end stall, ripping the curtain open with so much force that he tore it off the rings. Tossing it aside, he peered onto the ledge…and there, thank god, was his knife.

With one large breath of relief, he stepped forward and grabbed it, the weight familiar and comfortable in his hand. It was like reuniting with a friend, his one friend. He allowed himself one moment to draw it close to his heart and close his eyes. That had been close.

“What are you doing?” A voice startled him from behind.

His eyes flew wide.

“U-uh, sir,” he said faintly. Too late to shove the knife into his belt. Too late to hide it away. It was there, in plain sight, the officer’s eyes honed straight on it.

“Where did you get that?” The officer’s voice was ice. “Cadets aren’t allowed knives at the Garrison.”  The longer he looked, the wider his eyes became. “What kind of knife is that?  Hand it over, cadet. You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“I- I -” He couldn’t think fast enough. But to get dragged to Iverson’s again would be his grave. He couldn’t have that.

“The blade! Cadet!” The officer demanded, hand held out for it.

Keith clung to it, rooted to the spot.

“Officer Ramirez, what’s going on?”  It was Shiro.  Shiro was there, walking in, face serious for once, hands folded behind his back.

“Officer Shirogane,” he said in surprise, stepping back, relief making his posture go lax. “He was acting suspiciously in the hallways, running through them like he was being chased, so I followed him here. He has a knife. I was going to bring him to Iverson.”

Shiro stared at the knife that Keith was still clutching to. His eyes moved from the knife to Keith’s gaze and there it held.

Shiro was thinking again, a moment of silence running between them that was getting more and more familiar.

Keith wasn’t sure what was on his face. Terror? Dread? Whatever Shiro saw made him decide.

“Oh, that,” Shiro forced out a laugh. He stepped forward, holding his hand out.  “Thanks for getting that for me, Keith. I knew I’d left it here.”

Ramirez stared. “What?”

“I’ve been mentoring Keith. We were just having a session when I remembered that I’d left my knife in the shower, but I couldn’t remember which one. I had Keith check this one while I went to the other. Looks like Keith found it first.”

Ramirez was still staring.

Shiro held his hand out further. “Can I have my knife back, please, Keith?”

For all Shiro seemed to be doing for him, Keith still was reluctant to let it go. It was the last bit of his father, the very last bit. But on the other hand was his future, hanging on a wobbling balance.

Prying his arm away from his chest, he held the knife out to Shiro.

“Thanks,” Shiro smiled brilliantly. “And Officer Ramirez, thank you for your diligence. This is exactly the kind of behavior we encourage in our officers.”

Ramirez was looking between the two of them, face unsmiling.

_He knows_ , Keith thought, staring back stiffly. He was waiting for the moment Ramirez dragged him out.

Instead, his shoulders loosened and he sighed. “I thought I had something today.”

Shiro chuckled. “Have a good day, Officer.”

“Yes, sir, you too, sir.”

And then it was just Keith and Shiro, alone in the bathroom.

Keith was frowning, staring blankly at the door at the end of the aisle. “Why did you do that?” he said quietly, voice pitched low.

Shiro sighed. “You didn’t seem like you were going to give it up. I was almost afraid you’d use the knife on him.”

“I wouldn’t,” Keith whispered, but then when he thought of the alternative, giving it up to some random officer, and then to Iverson, he realized the option seemed more enticing than he wished to admit.

“But that’s not what I meant,” Keith continued. “I brought a knife into the Garrison. I knew the rule. I should be expelled, so why save me?”

Shiro was silent for a long time. He was not smiling, his eyes were dim and a little sad. He didn’t answer the question. “Why’d you bring it?” He asked, finally.

Too personal. Too close to his heart. Keith tsked. “I wasn’t going to use it on anyone.”

“I never said you were.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he found himself saying again, his voice raising. He sounded angry and he didn’t even know why. He just knew that his chest was tightening and his heart was hammering desperately.  He was floundering and confused and his heart didn’t know how to take it, didn’t know how to find a way out.

He pushed forward, words cutting through his throat. “I don’t need anyone to help me. I can’t ever repay you. Whatever you think I can do for you, I can’t. I'm a bad person.  I hurt people.  So just stop it already. I’m sick of you trying to help me. I can handle it myself.”  He was breathing hard, hands balled into fists.  “I don’t need you.”

Shiro’s lips parted like he might say something, but then he pressed them together again and just watched Keith. His eyes were steel, piercing and collected.

Keith cleared his throat roughly and drew himself up to his full height. He held his hand out. “Give me my knife back.”

Shiro sighed, shaking his head slowly. “No.”

Keith jerked his hand out further, fury rising up inside of him, constricting his throat and making him mash his words with venom. “I want my knife back.”

His response was simple. “No.”

“It’s _mine,_ ” Keith all but screamed, his senses betraying him. All he could see was his father. His father telling him he loved him and that he would always be with him, and then leaving, a stupid shitty knife all that was left. But it was the one thing Keith could call his own.

Shiro looked sad as he watched Keith. “I’m sorry. Knives aren’t allowed on the premises. I won’t report you to Iverson, but I won’t be giving it back right now. Don’t worry. I’ll keep it in a safe place. At the end of the year, you can have it back.”

Keith wanted to scream. Wanted to throw himself on perfect _Takashi Shirogane_ and wail on him until his arms were weak. Wanted to make him hurt like he was hurting.

All Shiro did was stare calmly, so fucking calm, like nothing in the world ever touched him. Like he didn’t know pain, just knew how to react to it because that was what he was taught, to be nice, to make himself feel like a hero when he reached out a hand.

So Keith discovered what Shiro wanted after all.  It wasn’t for Keith to do anything directly, it was to help him, the stray cat he was, so that Shiro could feel like a hero.

Well, Keith wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction.

He took two sharp steps back, staring at Shiro incredulously, and then turned, running out of there.  He ran as fast as he could, lungs bursting, eyes burning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd update twice a week but then I got the world's most persistent migraine and I couldn't concentrate on anything. OTL I should be good from here on out though. *coughs*
> 
> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me on [Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Cadet, this is the worst work I’ve ever seen.”

Keith hung his head, closing his eyes tightly.  “Sir.”

“Sloppy penmanship.  Too many run-on sentences to even count.  And none of your thoughts make any sense.  Did you even read the chapter?”

“Yes, sir.”  He had…at two in the morning.  He had been so tired, but time or not, it needed to get done, so he had plowed on.  A lot of good that had done him.  But then again, neither had the sleep.  His arm was still burning from phantom wounds.

“This is a ridiculous mess,” she hissed, tossing it back at him like he were dirt on the bottom of a shoe.  The students in the classroom behind him snickered quietly, shifting like shadows thick with red eyes.  “Do it again.  You’d better not waste my time with this next attempt.  And this doesn’t mean you’re excused from tonight’s essay either.  I want both by tomorrow.  If you’re in on a full-ride scholarship, then prove it.  This much should be easy for you.”

“…Sir,” Keith said faintly, grabbing the paper and staring down at the red marks coating it.  He knew it hadn’t been perfect, but these many errors?  He turned and collected his things.

Two essays in one night.  The pain in his arm was distracting him.

“Keith,” someone was saying.  

Detention.  Two essays.  Homework.  There was a test tomorrow he had to study for.  He needed time to eat, shower.  And sleep, he had to sleep.  But the nightmares.  His arm.  The pain was gnawing away at him.

“Keith.  Are you alright?  Do you need me to take you to the infirmary?”

Keith narrowed his eyes, trying to force them to focus.  He was in the cafeteria, Shiro taking a seat beside him.  He was looking at Keith in concern as he slid a muffin over to him.  Keith blinked sluggishly, rubbing his eyes, caught off guard.  He grabbed onto the muffin by reflex, staring at it and trying to comprehend.  “Huh?”

“The muffin’s for you.  You look…”  A pause.  “…Unwell.”

He felt like he was already in a dream world, his vision hazy.  The fire inside of him was dull and flickering out.  He was still sore about the knife, but he was too tired to follow up on his anger - at least Shiro had promised he’d give it back and he _had_ saved him from a worse fate by doing it.

He realized he was squeezing his arm with one hand so he sat up and tried to shake himself loose.  “I…  I haven’t slept lately.”

“Is your roommate keeping you awake?”

“No.  It’s not that.  I’m just…”  Two essays.  “A lot of work to do today.”  

“I can help,” Shiro said, sitting up at attention, end of his fork to his lips.  “Which classes?”

Keith slid his marked essay over to Shiro, rubbing at his forehead roughly.  “I’m supposed to fix it by tomorrow...and then I have another essay to write by tomorrow and a test and homework from other classes and detention  -”  He let out a shaky breath, touching the ends of his fingers to his forehead.  Overwhelmed.  It was so much.

Shiro let out a soft troubled sound, letting his bothered gaze fall to the paper.

He read over it slowly, eyes sliding across the page, frown developing the further he read.  

“Keith.  This is…”

“Shit.  I know.”  Keith said dully.  “She already made that very clear.”

Shiro tossed a bemused look at him and then tugged his sight back down.  He read it over again, even slower, pressing his fingers to his lips in deep concentration.  “No, I don’t understand.  This is brilliant work, Keith.  This is your first year?”

Now it was Keith’s turn to frown.  “Yeah?”

The look developing on Shiro’s face made Keith frown even harder.  There were thoughts there, firing rapidly, plans forming.  Shiro wordlessly gave the paper over to Matt and scooted in, watching him expectantly as Matt hunched over it, pushing his glasses to his face with one finger.  

Even Matt couldn’t deny it, his face growing pinched.  “This is good,” he muttered grudgingly.  “Really good.”

“See?”

“Who the hell was marking it up like this?  These corrections don’t even make sense.”

“See?”  

“This person’s really a teacher at the Garrison?”

Shiro leaned into Matt’s face, eyebrows high, meaning transcending one simple homework assignment.  “ _Seeeeeee_.”

“Yeah, okay,” Matt said, pushing Shiro’s face away.  He leaned across Shiro and slipped the paper back.  “I’d complain.  How are you supposed to learn if she’s correcting you incorrectly?”

“Yeah,” Keith sighed as the bell rang and he shoved his paper back into his bag.  “That’d go over well.”

Like he would really be able to do that.  He had no one to complain to, as always.

 

His only time of refuge was usually during his last period, in the sim, flying through space.  He got more time than any of the others maybe even combined, but even still it didn’t usually feel like enough.  He needed the time away from earth, even fabricated, as much as he needed air.  Maybe more than.  He was dying on the ground, choking on the atmosphere.

That day wasn’t what he’d wanted though.  He skirted through the stars until he made it to a planet, but when he approached it, he realized it was filled with ice. Discoveries were usually something he got excited for, but this just brought trepidation and nerves.  It wasn’t identical to his dream, but it was suffocatingly close, empty and isolated.

He swallowed it down, weaving through the landscape, checking it out.  Planets like this were always so lonely.  Was this what space was like?  Sometimes, it felt like peaceful, just a time of quiet away from all the noise.  Other times, it felt like darkness pressing a hand over his mouth.

He wanted out before he’d even seen anything, speeding faster than he usually did just because of the pressure the nagging fear brought in his skull.  He zipped through the hanging glaciers of ice that loomed overhead and thick white clouds that impeded his vision.  But he knew he’d hardly just begun.  He thought of the stars again, of that dream, of the pain in his arm these past days, like warnings blaring too loudly in his ear.  And he was there again, weaving through it all.

He wasn’t focused on reality. Out of the corner of his eye, something flit past - something after him, something bad.  He didn’t want to be captured.  He didn’t want to find out what that splitting pain in his arm was from.

The whole sim groaned as he panicked, slamming the controls hard to the side.  The ship spun, back end flinging out.  When it hit a block of ice, he used it, propelling himself off of it and out of the way.

When he whipped his head around, there was nothing there.

“What was that?”  He demanded of Iverson as he exited the sim.  Shiro was there that time, standing beside Iverson, eyes bright.

Iverson said, “The landscapes are created to replicate actual scenery you might encounter in space.  They’re random and always changing, you know that.”

“There was...there was something there.  It didn’t feel right.”

Iverson was looking at him funny.  “You can look over the footage.  I didn’t see anything.”

Shiro was ignoring the rest of the students ogling him, eyes only on Keith.  “Where’d you learn to evade like that?”

Keith flashed him a brief look before turning away.  “...I saw it in a dream.”

 

During their mentoring session, Shiro was still thinking about it, busying himself with tossing a pencil into the air and catching it.  He asked the moment Keith came through the door.  “What’d you think you saw?”

Keith dropped his books to the ground and grunted.  “You’re always watching.”  It ground out like an accusation.

Shiro rubbed the back of his head with his hand and shrugged sheepishly.  “I think there’s a lot to learn from you.”

Keith sighed, shoving himself into his seat and pulling his papers from his bag, frowning into all of them.  “I don’t know what I saw.  You heard what Iverson said - seeing things.”

“Well, that maneuver was incredible.  You reacted so quickly.  It almost looked practiced.  You really saw it in a dream?”

Keith mumbled under his breath, eyes focused on his work in front of him.

Shiro waited.  Keith could feel him expecting an answer and it pressed into him.

“I might’ve also seen a few videos of your earlier flights the other day,” Keith relented.  He swallowed hard.  “They’re good.”

Surprise flickered across Shiro’s face, and then a smile.  “You should’ve just said so; I thought it looked familiar.  I can’t believe it was your first time trying it though.  If you were looking at my earlier flights, you must’ve seen how many times it took me to get it.”

“A few,” Keith allowed.  “But you created it, I was only mimicking it, there’s a difference.”

“I was in my second year though,” Shiro said.

“Third,” Keith muttered.

Shiro was smiling happily, tapping the end of his pencil to the table to a merry beat.  His eyes wandered over to what Keith was working on and he frowned immediately, leaning forward to see.  “You’re not re-writing that essay, are you?”

“I have to,” Keith grumbled, pencil not stopping its race across the page.

Shiro hummed in discontentment, biting the end of his pen as he stared into it.

“Who’s your teacher?”  Shiro asked.

Keith sighed, not bothering to look up.  “Krom.”

Shiro smiled happily. “She’s an old friend.  I’ll talk to her.  Can I see it?”

“I’m working on it.”

“You should get through your more minor homework first anyway.  It’ll be easier.”  He held out his hand and tilted his head in question.

Keith rose an eyebrow, staring Shiro down for a moment before he caved and shoved the paper over.  He wanted the peace and quiet anyway.  “You’re wasting your time.”

“No,” Shiro said firmly.  “In fact, I’ll go see her now.”

“You don’t have to do that…”

“I know,” Shiro said.  He was already standing though, face set in determination.  “But this isn’t right.  There must be some sort of mistake.”

Keith scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him.

Shiro stopped and turned, frowning in confusion.  “What?”

“Mistake?  …There’s no mistake, Shiro.”

That innocent perplexed look made Keith’s amusement only grow.  He felt his mouth stretching wide, bitterly.  

“I don’t understand,” Shiro relented.

Keith shrugged.  “You can’t be that oblivious, can you?  Everyone knows it, even the teachers.  They hate me.  It doesn’t matter what’s on that paper.   _You_ could write it for all they’re concerned, but if my name’s attached to it, it’ll always be trash to them.”

“Hate you?”  Shiro tasted the words on his tongue like he’d never heard them before, never even thought of the idea.

“Everyone does.  Ask anyone.  Ask your friend, what’s-his-name.  Everyone.”

“Matt?  No, Matt doesn’t hate you.”

Keith hummed noncommittally, turning on his chair to get back to his work.

“No one hates you,” Shiro said again, firmly.  He pointed the paper in Keith’s direction.  “But just say for a moment, in some other far distant universe, that Krom _did_ hate you, it doesn’t mean this is okay.  I’m going to talk to her.  I’ll be right back.”

When the door closed behind Shiro, Keith shook his head.  People.  Shiro hardly being able to believe that this sort of thing happened should’ve been funny, but it wasn’t anymore.  Just tiring.  Everything was tiring.  Keith was starting to wonder why he struggled so hard.  

It used to be because he thought, if he worked hard, someone would notice, and maybe the right person would come along and adopt him.  

Lately, he’d been telling himself that he didn’t need anyone.  Proving he could do it for himself, that was what should really matter.

It should.

But it didn’t.

When he got accepted into the Garrison, there was no one to tell.  

And now, even still.  Nothing changed.

His paper seemed less and less important the more his brain grew tired.  He was on auto-pilot; he hardly even knew what he was writing anymore.  Keith sagged onto the table, letting his face rest against the cool surface.  He could feel himself, for weeks now, maybe even months, on some distant plane of existence, slowly unwinding.  Bits of his soul were wearing too thin and breaking off, easing away.  

He let it.  

He closed his eyes.  

It must be nice to have a family to complain about unfair shit to.  “Officer Krom is treating me unfairly.”  It’d be weird unloading that sort of thing onto someone else.  Someone who actually cared to hear it.  That sounded impossible.  

Maybe a friend.

A friend to lean on, like Shiro had said.  But Shiro was friends with everyone and someone like that was probably, in actuality, friends with no one.  It was probably all just a sham.  Keith had seen him in the halls, always surrounded by entire groups of people, laughing at things that weren’t actually funny, feigning interest in things that were as boring as mud.  People like that didn’t need to waste time on someone like Keith.  Even just entertaining the idea made Keith feel sick.  

He was so damned tired.

His body caved before he could fight it and he drifted off.  For once, he didn’t have nightmares.

When he jerked awake, he was groggy and confused.  All he could see was white, but then it dropped away.

Shiro was standing over him.  He had been trying to sneak the paper out from underneath Keith’s face.  “Sorry,” he whispered, cringing in apology.  “You were starting to drool on your essay.  I didn’t want it to get messed up.”

Keith frowned in general disapproval for a moment, his mind still trying to find itself.  His eyes flew wide.  “The essay!”  He jerked his head to the clock but it was broken.  “What time is it?”

“Whoa, whoa, easy.  You’ve only been sleeping for a few hours.  You’ve got time.”

Keith wheezed.  “Hours!   _Hours_!  I still have to clean the shower stalls!  I’ve got this essay and then a test tomorrow!  I haven’t even studied!  Hours!  Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Calm down, Keith.”

“Calm!  That’s what I’ll do!  I can’t believe this.”  His mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out how to best proceed that’d result in the least amount of disaster.  Which class could take the worst hit?  How far could his body be pushed before it broke?  He already felt like he might break any second. His heart was thumping too rabbit-fast to be healthy.   

He stood sharply, grabbing for his paper, when his legs gave out underneath him.  He saw the moment when Shiro realized it, his hands reaching out by reflex.

He caught Keith around the waist before he hit the ground, Keith’s head lolling dizzily against his arm for a moment.

“Whoa,” Shiro murmured in surprise.

Keith’s world was spinning all around him, blurring the scenery.  He closed his eyes tightly against it and waited for the world to right itself but it wouldn’t.  He just spun and spun.

Shiro helped gently sit Keith down in a chair.  With a groan, Keith slouched forward onto the desk, pressing his face into his hands.

“You’re unwell,” Shiro whispered in worry, hands slipping from Keith’s waist to his shoulders as he hovered.  “I’ve got to get you to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine,” Keith grit out when he was grounded enough to manage talking.  He still couldn’t open his eyes or he’d puke.  “I’ve got too much to do…”

“No.  Listen.  I’ll talk to Iverson.  I’ll talk to whoever needs to be talked to, but this isn’t worth your health.  You’ve been looking worse and worse each day.  What have you been feeling like?”

Keith groaned softly.  “What’re you?  A doctor too?  Lay off.”

“Keith.”  Shiro said his name softly, like it was a warm and important word.  No one spoke Keith’s name like that.

 _Liar_.

Keith pinched the bridge between his eyes.  “It’s nothing.  I don’t need your help.  I’m fine.  I just can’t sleep.  When I do, I get nightmares, and then I’m even more exhausted than before.  It’s been this way for a week or so.”

“Exhaustion is still serious.  People’ve died from it.”

“Not me,” Keith sat up stubbornly, fighting through the dizziness that made him feel like he were going to be tossed off the earth’s surface and straight into space.  He tried to muster up a glare in Shiro’s direction but there was no heat to it.  Shiro was kneeling beside him, eyes wide with genuine worry and Keith found himself very susceptible to that.

“Let me take you to the infirmary,” Shiro persisted.  “Can you stand?  I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Keith almost made a dry comment, but then realized, at the intensity in Shiro’s eyes, that he was being fully serious.  

Uncomfortable, Keith shook his head delicately.  “I can stand.”

He stood.  

And wobbled.

Shiro was there in a flash, hands securing Keith in place, one on one of his hands, and the other on the small of his back.

Keith opened his mouth to protest, but instead, heard himself croaking, “vertigo”.

“Have you been drinking any fluids?  I know you haven’t been eating.”

Keith shrugged, pitiful.

Shiro tsked.  “Seriously?  Didn’t your parents ever teach you to take care of yourself?”

Keith tensed, anger flaring.  His jaw clicked shut with an audible snap.

The truth writhed in him, threatening to burst free and explode in their faces.  He wrestled it back.  Not having his parents - or any parents for that matter - was a weakness, a disgusting no-good weakness and embarrassment and he couldn’t admit it, especially not to Shiro.

There was a blank silence that followed as Shiro guided him down the hallway, Keith and their bags on his shoulder.  

“I’m sorry,” Shiro finally said.  “I didn’t mean to snap -”

“It’s fine,” Keith said quickly, eager to change the topic.  “I can take care of myself.  Just lately I’ve…  I’m tired.”  His soul was tired.

Shiro gave him a careful side-glance.

By that time, they’d made it to the infirmary.  The nurse was getting ready to leave and all the lights were out.  When she saw them coming in, she frowned slightly but stepped back into the room.  

Shiro waited outside after depositing Keith onto the table for the nurse to inspect.

She asked every boring question she could, made some jibe about not eating and sleeping well enough and _didn’t he know how to take care of himself_?  And then said, “Well, it’s a good thing for friends.  That was nice of him to help you here.”

Keith stared blankly.

It was only ten minutes before she was calling Shiro back inside, finished with her work.  Keith still sitting on the table but now with an IV attached to his arm.

He scowled at Shiro’s curious gaze.  “I’m fine.”

“You have a weird definition of ‘fine’.  But she already told me.  Exhaustion.”

“Like you said,” Keith said sharply.  “Ultra serious.  I’m probably on my deathbed right now.”

“I talked to Krom.  You don’t have to re-write that essay.”

Keith looked up, surprise on his face.  “Really?  What’d you do to her?  Threaten her?”

Shiro smiled wryly, crossing his arms.  “We had a friendly and educational debate about writing styles.”

“Let me guess, you were on the side of, ‘barbaric writing still counts’, right?”

Shiro snorted.  “You caught me.  But seriously…your writing is well above your grade.  You shouldn’t doubt yourself.   You have to know you’re brilliant, you’re on a full-ride scholarship.  You beat my entry scores.”

“Lord forbid,” Keith said, feeling a cat-like smile slowly develop on his face.

Shiro was watching, wickedly amused.  “Look at you.  Getting better already.”

Keith chuckled lowly, looking down at the IV stuck into his flesh.  “…Were your scores really that impressive?”

He didn’t mean anything by it, but the moment it came out of his mouth, he realized how one might take offense.  He braced himself, ready for impact -

Shiro laughed and shrugged.  “I dunno.   The first few years, I felt like everyone was pranking me.  I worked hard and I fought for it, but still, it all felt unreal.”

“You’re used to it now?”

Again, he shrugged.  “More or less.  You do the best with what you’re given.  I just happened to get lucky.”

Keith thought about it, humming in agreement.  “Everyone made a big deal when I came out of the flight simulator.  They made me do it again.  They were convinced it was a glitch.”

Shiro grinned.  “What’d you practice on?”

“Hm?”

“To do so well on the flight simulator.  My father had a sim at his work.  It wasn’t as high tech, but I used it enough to feel comfortable on it.  So when I came here, the controls weren’t totally foreign.”

“Oh…  I…didn’t.”  

Shiro blinked, shock printed onto his face.  He leaned forward as if hearing him better might change the answer.  “…You never rode in a sim before?”

“Uh, no.  I didn’t really have a lot when I was younger.  I could hardly get my hands on a bike, let alone a flight simulator-”  

He closed his mouth, realizing what he was saying.  Too late.

Keith excelled at some things, that’s how it was.  And then people proceeded to hate him for it.  That’s how it was.

Like he needed another person to hate him.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said softly, unable to look him in the eyes.  

“What for?”  Shiro basically squawked.

Keith’s eyes darted up to Shiro’s face.  There were stars in his eyes and…was that…  Was Shiro blushing?

“That’s amazing,” Shiro said breathlessly.  “To never pilot in a sim before and then score like that.  You’ve really never tried anything like it before?  How many times have you gone in the sim since?”

Keith was frowning, confused by Shiro’s reaction.  “None.”

“Oh, no,” Shiro said.  He was still smiling.  “No, this can’t stand at all.  I’ll have to find a way to get you in more.  I’ve got some sessions coming up.  Want to come with me?  I’d have to ride with you or it’d fail to start, but I can be copilot.  What do you think?”

Keith just stared.  “…Why?”

Shiro laughed.  His eyes shone like stars.  There were so many things to be said in his eyes, building up with his smile, but instead, he shrugged.  “Could be fun.”

Keith looked away, uncomfortable.  He wasn’t used to such positive energy, especially not directed at him.  He didn’t know what to do with it, like stars held so delicately in his hands.  He felt like any move he made would send the stars tumbling out of his hold and exploding on the ground.  

“...Don’t get so excited.  It was probably just beginner’s luck,” he rationalized.  “Everyone else is having such a hard time with it.  It was just a fluke.”

“Don’t chicken out on me now.  Where’s that fire I saw in you when you were tossing five men to the ground like bags of rice?”

Keith chewed on his cheek dryly.  “I nearly got expelled for that.”

“But you didn’t.”  Shiro winked.

Winked.

Keith had no idea what to do with any of this.  He was pouring too much energy in trying to keep up with Shiro and he didn’t have a lot to expend in the first place.  

He was wilting.  

“How much longer do you need to keep that IV in?”  Shiro asked.

He drew in a weary breath as he looked down at it, stuck in his skin.  “She just said she’d be back.”

Shiro leaned back to look through the door and down the hallway.  Doubt crossed his features.  “Don’t you need your rest more than anything…?”

“You can go.  Would you mind getting my bag for me, though?  I still have to finish that essay and study.”  Oh, damn.  And take care of the shower stalls.

Shiro shook his head, waving his hand in front of his face.  “And the detention too, right?  Don’t worry about it.  I’ll talk to Iverson.”

Keith cringed.  “No.  I have to do these things.  I’m not you.”

“You almost passed out on me earlier.  He’ll understand.”

“No.  You don’t understand.   _I have to_.”

Shiro opened his mouth to protest and then stopped himself.  With a frown, he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, his eyes going deep, thinking hard again.

Keith sighed.  “This is my business, not yours.  Go to bed already.”

“I’m your mentor,” Shiro said in a firm voice that led no room for questions.  

Keith stared at him through dark grumpy eyes.  “Yeah.  Not my babysitter.”

Shiro chuckled when he looked up and met his look.  “Your responsibilities matter - that is something I wholeheartedly agree with.  But if you run yourself into the ground and hurt yourself, you’ll be out of commission for much longer.  It’s an important lesson to learn.  Iverson knows this.”  

“I’ve never been one to learn the easy way,” Keith grunted.

Shiro laughed again, holding his hands up in surrender.  “Fine.  Here,” he said as he scooped up Keith’s backpack and handed it over.  “Your old essay is fine.  But your new one and studying for your test, work on those.  I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”  Keith asked, craning his head to see out the door.

“Bathroom,” Shiro waved without turning back, walking off curtly, on a mission.

Keith sighed.  He didn’t want someone babying him and giving him shortcuts.  It felt strange inside his chest, like a slippery guilty beast writhing around uncomfortably.  He wanted to do things as they were presented, he wanted to do them right.  If his past experiences were any indication, doing things any other way was just a good way to get slighted, and that included receiving help from others.

Keith pulled his essay out onto his lap, avoiding his IV, and slowly re-read it.  It wasn’t his best work, but time had slipped away too quickly and he couldn’t churn out his best work.  This would just have to do.  He got his book out to study instead.  Progress.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but the lack of sleep was pressing in on his needs and, against his will, his face smashed into the pages.  And away he drifted.  He wasn’t a heavy sleeper by any means, but he had been ground down to a nub those past few days.  He slept well for once, lost in a way he wasn’t usually lost in slumber.

When he slowly came back to shore, senses brightening and opening up to the world around him, he realized something extremely odd.  He felt…good.

He didn’t want to jinx it.  He was sure he had a migraine that would be triggered by motion, or maybe he was missing his limbs or something and that’s why they weren’t hurting.  But when he finally gathered the courage to open his eyes and sit up, he was all in one piece.

He was just…well-rested.  What the hell was that?

And, he blinked, looking around in confusion, where the hell was he?  It was a large room he’d never been in before.  A dorm?  Not his dorm.

“Oh.  Good morning,” a voice from behind startled him.

Keith whirled, eyes falling on a half-naked Shiro.  He was sorting through a closet and pulling out a jacket.

“…’Morning,” Keith muttered, looking down at himself.  He was on a bed, his clothes from yesterday still on.  But not his jacket, shoes, or socks.  He saw those laid out for him on his bag besides the nightstand.  

He looked around the room, slight frown on his face.  It was big.  Nice.  An actual room and not a hole in the wall that crammed two unwilling cadets together.  There was a television.  There was a couch.  A bathroom.

“Where the fuck am I?”  

Shiro pulled a shirt over his head and then grabbed his jacket.  He took in a deep breath, steadying himself.  “...I hope you don’t mind.  You fell asleep last night and I didn’t know where your room was, so I brought you to mine.  You’ve still got time to get ready for first period, don’t worry.  I was just about to wake you.”

“ _Your room_ ?”  Keith choked out.  He was laying in Shiro’s sheets.  On his _pillow_.  He’d never slept on someone’s bed like this before.  Never.  It felt way too intimate.  Way too personal.  He felt like he had violated something he shouldn’t have even known about.

“You fell asleep in the nurse’s office and when we tried to wake you, you wouldn’t get up.  The nurse was antsy to lock up and get out of there and we didn’t know where your room was.  It was too late to ask Iverson.  I just figured this was easier.  Don’t worry, you had the bed to yourself.  I slept on the couch.”

“You slept on the _couch_ ?”  Keith squeaked out.  “You carried me here?  Like...like some _doll_ ? Like a _child_?”

Shiro sighed, walking into the bathroom and out of sight.  “You’re not a doll or a child.  It’s nothing like that.  You were just ill and I couldn’t leave you in the hall.  That would’ve only made things worse.  I tried to wake you several times, both the nurse and me.  You were sleeping like a rock.”

“But the _bed_ -”

“It’s fine, Keith,” he called.  “You looked like you needed the bed more than I did.”

Keith pushed himself out of the sheets and onto his feet, walking across the spacious room to make his way to the bathroom door.  He leaned against it, shoving his head into the bathroom.  “I said it once and I’ll say it again.  Don’t do this.”

Shiro was smiling tiredly as he ran a comb carefully through his hair. He didn’t take his eyes off his reflection in the mirror. “What’s ‘this’?”

“Whatever the hell you’re doing!   _Friends_?  I don’t need friends.  I don’t need you coddling me!  I’ve already told you.”

“I’m sorry, Keith.  You’re right, I should’ve asked.  I wanted to help you.  But you were obviously unwell and I know how the first years’ rooms are.  I thought this might be better for you last night.  I apologize.  I took it upon myself.  I shouldn’t have done that.”

Keith was still breathing like a wild animal as he stared Shiro’s calmness in the face.

Shiro hummed under his breath.  “You’re free to take a shower here if you’d like.  The shower head’s not as good as the one in the stalls and it’s pretty small, but sometime the shower stalls are full this time in the morning.”

 _Why?_ Keith was so unbelievably frustrated.  “I just said -”  And then he froze.  “The shower stalls,” he said faintly.  “I forgot to clean them.  I’ve got to -”

“- Oh, that,” Shiro said with effected calm, not looking at him.  “I already did it.”

“You -”  Keith shook his head, trying to clear his brain.  “- you _what_?”

“You were out of it last night, so I cleaned them for you.”

The image of Shiro basically marching off to the bathrooms last night suddenly made sense.  Keith stood rooted to the floor, horror creeping up into his heart.

Shiro turned, frowning.  “…Keith,” he said, his voice dipping into a gentle soft tone.  “…Really.  Not everything has to be a big deal.  It’s okay -”

“-Stop,” Keith cut in sharply, his voice brittle as ice.  He needed to find the words to stop this for good.  All of his usual tactics weren't working.  He needed to push even harder.  “Just stop it.  Stop all of this.  I don’t know what kind of sick game you think you’re playing - stroking your ego like this, helping _poor little_ Keith out - but it’s disgusting and pathetic.  Find someone else to latch onto.”  

He saw the shock on Shiro’s face, swiftly followed by hurt confusion.  But he was out of there before Shiro could say anymore.  Keith snatched up his bag and his clothes in one hand and then grabbed his shoes with the other.  He was running out the door before he even put them on.

 

Keith was rested and had enough fire in him to keep his bad mood fueled throughout the entire morning and most of the day.  He was so pissed, emanating his bad mood, that Shiro and Matt didn’t sit with him at lunch.  He was grateful to be alone for once.

He was in class, glaring down at his work, when his teacher called him up.  

Keith couldn’t pull the frown off his face as he approached the desk, ready for a fight.

“Shirogane came to me yesterday,” she said lowly, staring unhappily up at Keith as she tapped her glasses.  “We had a little chat.  I wanted to apologize.  He’s right.  Your work is a higher standard than I’m used to and I’ve been thinking of it as another level.  For this class, it works.  Well done.”

Keith stared and waited for her to continue to the bad part.  This had to be some sort of joke.  “So you want me to redo it?”  He asked.

“No.  No, it’s good.  I look forward to your future work.”

He frowned, confused.  Waiting.

“That’s all,” she had to say, an obvious dismissal.  He turned and walked back to his seat.

The rest of the period, he still waited for the moment she turned on him again, but she didn’t. After class ended, he walked out of the room and down the hallway and that was it.  No joke.  No mistake.

He didn’t want to say it.  Didn’t want to admit it.  He tried to desperately keep grasping onto the anger in his heart, but it flitted away.  Shiro felt a lot like his guardian angel, touch spread throughout the school.

He tried to stay mad, but there was a feeling in his chest - unhinged and awkward - that sent him far off balance.

 

When their session together began, Shiro was apologetic still, hovering as if waiting for an opportunity to correct things.

“Keith, I’m really sorry -”

“- I don’t want to talk about it,” Keith interjected, not looking up from his homework.  “You don’t listen anyways, so what’s the point?”

“Keith.”  His tone was slightly chastising this time.

“Sir,” Keith added bitterly, rubbing the back of his hand across his nose.  

Shiro leaned back with a weary exhale and stayed there for a moment, rubbing his temples.

It was silent in the room, but the soft scratching of pencil against paper kept Keith from going insane.

As time ticked past, Shiro asked, “How’d your test go?”

Keith sniffed.  “Fine, all things considered.”

“And the essay?”

Stiffly, he said, “…Krom excused the first essay, just like you said.  She even apologized.”

“That’s good.”  Shiro’s voice was soft, a trace of uncertainty hanging on the end of his tone.

The door banged open and a familiar head of brown messy hair barged in.

“Matt,” Shiro said in surprise, already rising to his feet.  “What’s up?”

“Suzy just invited me to go to out with her and her friends.  Suzy Grimelheim.”

“Wow.  Congratulations.  When are you going to go?”

“ _Right now_.  Can you believe it?  Well, she didn’t just invite me.  I might’ve mentioned you were coming.  So come on.  You’re coming too.”

“Can’t.  I’ve got mentoring to do.”

“Shiro.  It’s Suzy.  You know.   _Grimelheim._ ”

Shiro’s smile was everlastingly patient.  “Sorry, Matt.  I can’t just leave.”

“Shiro,” Matt said, pressing his hands firmly onto the table and leaning forward.  Keith, with a glare, snatched his papers away from him.  “Can we talk outside for two seconds?  Just for a second.”

“Matt -”

“-Please, please, please.”

Shiro sighed, such an old soul.  He pushed himself up and said to Keith, “Sorry, I’ll be just a moment.”  

Keith knew better than to listen in.  He knew.  He didn’t want to hate Matt, he didn’t want to hate anyone.  So he kept his head down and stuck with writing.

It felt good to resist his urge to eavesdrop until Shiro’s tablet starting lighting up.

A call.  From Iverson.  

Keith frowned.  None of his business.  He went back to writing until the ringing stopped.  

But then it started again.  What if it was an emergency and he ignored it?  

He grabbed Shiro’s tablet and walked to the door, where he could hear them speaking in whispers.

Not wanting to be that person, he went to quickly push the door open to hand the tablet over.

Then he caught his name and his body froze, hand outstretched in the air still.  The door was cracked open just slightly and Keith could see the both of them in the hallway, both too engrossed in their conversation to notice Keith.

Matt’s face was pained as he leaned forward.  “You do so much for him and he repays you how?  He treats you like trash!  Shiro, you don’t deserve that.  Whatever you think you see in him, let me tell you, it’s not worth it.  For all the worrying you do about others, you never seem to worry about yourself.”

Shiro shook his head and bit his lip.  Calmly, he said, “Today, I overstepped my boundaries.  I shouldn’t have -”

“ _-Shiro_ , listen to yourself.  You were trying to help him, not kidnap him!  He takes everything you do and twists it and turns it to try to make you just as miserable as he is himself.  You were just trying to _help_.”

Shiro was turning away as he sighed out, “I’m telling you, Matt.  He’s not a bad person  -”

Matt grabbed his arm and tugged him back.  “-I know you like to help others.  Everyone admires that about you.  But come on, the kid _doesn’t want your help_ .  It doesn’t matter _what_ it is you do, he’s going to shove it back in your face.  He’s made it clear five thousand times, I don’t understand what you’re doing!  And now Iverson’s mad at you?  Shiro, come on, why can’t you see the kid’s dragging you down along with him?  You’re not this dumb.”

“Hey.  Come on.  Let’s not fight.  Iverson’s not mad.  He’s just wants to understand.”

“He’s mad.  You can’t just take detention for the kid!  Even you can’t get away with that.”

“He’s not a kid.  And he has a name, you know - it’s Keith.  I’m telling you, I _see something_.  He’s lonely, Matt, without any allies.  Maybe I can be that for him...”

Matt let out a weary sigh as his hands sagged to his sides.  “Don’t let your bridges be burnt for nothing.  Did he thank you at all for what you did?  Or did he just yell and rage at you again?”

“Matt.”

“I bet you he didn’t, did he?  Next time, let him sleep out in the hallways and see how he likes it.  Maybe then he’ll appreciate you.  He told you himself he was a bad person. So why are you the only one who can’t believe it?”

“Maybe _he_ truly believes it, but I don’t...and that’s final.”  Shiro had his arms crossed across his chest as he stared firmly at Matt.  With a small sniff, he loosened his voice and said lightly, “You’re going a little overboard just to get me to go on some double date with you.”

Matt tossed his head back and groaned.  “It’s not that and you _know it_.  I’m worried about you, Shiro.  You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are.  The Kerberos applications are coming up and if we get it...if we’re accepted, we could be in space soon, it’ll change our lives...  If something happens with this kid, just because you can’t control yourself around him -”

“Don’t worry so much.  I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

“I know, I know, you’re a big boy.  You should be able to handle it.  But your heart’s so soft, Shiro.  You see a wounded animal on the ground and you’ll run to it no matter the trap over its head.  It’s your greatest weakness...and it’s going to be your downfall.  I’m afraid this is it, Shiro.”

“My heart’s fine.  Worry about your own.  Suzy’s going to stomp all over it.”

Matt sighed heavily.  “You don’t even remember who Suzy is, do you?”

Shiro chuckled.  “Um?”

“God.  I can’t take you anywhere.  She’s just the most beautiful, kindest, fair-hearted person you’ll ever see.”

Shiro patted him on the back.  “Go.  Have fun with her.  I’m going to stay here.  It’d be no fun with me trailing along anyway.  And hey, don’t worry about me.  I’m telling you, this feels right.  I can’t explain it, but I just...  I know this will work out.”

“I sure hope so, Shiro...  Try not to get hurt, okay?”

“...I’m good, Matt.  Keith is a good person, you’ll see.”

“...’K....  Bye.”

Keith could hear as Matt walked away, footsteps receding, but Shiro did not move from his spot.

Keith pressed his hands against the door frame and looked closer through the crack at Shiro.

Shiro just stood there, staring distantly down the hallway, lips parted, thoughts swimming in his eyes.  There was something about the look on his face that made Keith stop and wonder.

Was it...hope?  Belief?  For what?   

There was the softest hint of a smile on his lips.  Almost like...

The tablet began to buzz a third time and Keith, startled, pushed the door open.  Shiro looked over in surprise.  

Keith kept his face carefully blank.  “Iverson’s calling.”

“Oh.  Thanks.”  

Shiro took the call in the hallway and Keith went to sit back at the desk.  He stared blankly at the board, trying to understand what he was feeling inside.  He didn’t even understand what he had seen, so why did his chest feel so...?

“Sorry about that,” Shiro said, coming in after the phone call.  “Matt’s dating life is sorely lacking.  He needed advice.”

“Hm.”  Keith cleared his throat.  “And Iverson?”

“He was checking up on you.  Everything’s fine.”

“...That’s all?  He called three times.”

“I probably should redirect calls to my watch,” Shiro muttered, turning it on and fiddling with it.  “You know Iverson.”

“Not really,” Keith hummed softly.

“Oh, well, he’s persistent.”  He made a small noise of approval as his watch beeped.  “There we go.  I’ve been meaning to do that for ages.  Do you need help setting your watch up?  I notice you don’t use it.”

Keith wasn’t in a chatty mood, not that he ever was.  He watched Shiro’s face closely - the clear eyes, as if nothing touched him, but now, Keith knew it did.  He was just fighting to make things okay.  Keith said hesitantly,  “…Feels too constricting.”

“I guess it would be awkward in a fight.”

“Shiro,” he started to say, and then stopped.

Shiro looked up, eyes open and attentive, as they always were.

Maybe Keith had been unfair so far…

People weren’t to be trusted, Keith still stood strong about that, but Shiro…maybe Shiro deserved a little thanks, at the very least.  Maybe even more than that.  He had helped Keith several times already and even carried him to his room, let Keith take his bed.  No one had ever done that for Keith before.

“Hm?  What is it?”  Shiro asked.  

“I just…”  Keith let out a long winded breath.  He wasn’t used to this.  It felt awkward and unfamiliar in his mouth as he tried to pry the words out of his heart.  He always heard people calling it a ‘simple’ thank you.  What about a thank you was any bit simple?  His whole being fought against it.  Admitting gratefulness felt like a weakness, like it was something Keith couldn’t do for himself.  

He fought himself for a few seconds more, but he couldn’t pry the 'thank you’ from his chest.  He was a shitty person by default after all.

With a disappointed sigh, he stopped trying to fight it.  He’d never be the kind of person he wanted to be.  Roughly, he shoved his paper over at Shiro.  “I need help with number five.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me on [Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	4. Chapter 4

The hallways of the orphanage had been long and cold.  If you followed them past the creaking floorboards and away from the drab rooms, there was a window at the very end that overlooked the driveway up to the front.  It was a long road, longer than even the hallway, that shot straight down the hill and out of sight, past the horizon line.

That is where Keith had waited, many years, growing from a small child to young teen.  And from there, as he became older and angrier, he pretended not to look out the window anymore, curling up at that spot - _his_ spot - a book about the expanses of space in his hands.

But his pretending was just that and nothing more.  From his peripheral, he could see that long road, stretching out and away from him, leading to a place he didn’t know.  Waiting.  ...Waiting.

His father never came back to him.  It was just emptiness that was there, staring at him.

When prospective parents would trample through the orphanage, seeking out a new part of their family, some might see him and wonder aloud what he was like.  And to that, the housemothers, no matter who it was, always had the same answers: “I don’t think he’d be right for you.”

“He’s angry.”

“He’s violent.”

“He won’t be finding a home, not the way he’s been behaving.”

“He’s a rotten child who only gets worse by the day.  You don’t want him.”

Those who were brave enough to try would always fail.  They’d start out so strong and hopeful and then see, with time, that the housemothers had been right.  And return him.  Like trash.

Keith would return to his window, curled up with his books.  He’d wait.  Quietly, he’d wait.

His father still wouldn’t come.  And in the face of that, Keith began to believe them.

Keith was just not right for anyone.

 

The thought of having been carried to his bedroom like a vulnerable child didn’t sit well with Keith at all.  He was still thinking about it days later.

He had never allowed himself to be that exposed to anyone.  Ever.  His stomach literally churned at the thought of it.  Limp, like a doll, like a child, face unguarded, open, totally succumbed to someone else’s will.

What had Shiro seen?  What had Shiro learned?

And yet, the level of apprehension that came while just looking at his own bed exceeded the discomfort that came from relying on Shiro.  

It was late - later than usual, but he didn’t want to sleep.  He stood by his bed’s side, staring hard into its unassuming sheets.  He was going to get nightmares again, he could feel it, like when he’d stub his toe and feel no pain for one naive moment.  This was the naive moment.  The nightmares were already there, thrumming beneath the surface of his thoughts, begging to be let loose.

It was just a bed.  Just a plain bed with plain white sheets and a plain white pillow.  But what waited for him was vivid and toxic, noxious with too-bright colors, choking him until he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore.

Thinking about it, a wave of pain pulsed through his head, hot and bleeding.

 _Save him_.  

He groaned softly, stumbling.  He just barely caught himself on the mattress.

It was no use.  He couldn’t just not sleep.  But…

Tenderly, he grabbed his right arm.  There was no visible sign of damage to it, but it felt tender and strange.  He kept looking at it throughout the day, expecting to see a ring there, a scar.  He tried to remind himself he was being silly, but he hadn’t realized that dreams could incur such powerful physical pain either until now.

Giving in, he dug through his dresser for some pain medication and a few sleeping pills, swallowing them dry.  He went to the window as he waited for them to take effect, pushing the scratchy curtain away, peering up at the sky.

Stars.  He should’ve known.  They were plentiful, especially here.  Not that he hadn’t been able to see them well back at the orphanage, but here, they looked closer, shone with a bit more persistence.  They seemed to be looking down on him, listening.  

Keith scrunched his nose and let the curtains fall.  The stars left him feeling unsettled lately.  Uncomfortable.  But the pills finally went to work and he became dull enough for sleep to claim him.

He dreamt he was somewhere cold.  Cold, dark, and shivering, arms wrapped around himself in a hug that might as well be two blocks of ice instead of arms.  He was stripped of his own clothes, vulnerable like he’d never felt before, caged between four blank walls.

He was confused.  He didn’t know where he was.  His heart was thumping hard against his ribcage, screaming with every beat, “ _escape_!”

His limbs shook and protested as he pushed himself to his feet.  He stumbled to the door, falling against it as his legs buckled.  He had to use the remaining strength in his arms to pull himself up on the handle, peering out the small slit on the top.

Beyond the room was just darkness.  Not the kind that meant there was no light, but the kind that spoke of nothingness.  If he somehow managed to slip through this door, there would be nothing else.

His dreams were such shit lately.  Locked in a room for what felt like hours, totally alone and lost.

When it finally did change, it was better at first, and then worse, as he realized...

He was on the rooftop of the Garrison again, but his father was there, smiling as if these long lonely years hadn’t happened to Keith.  He was pointing out constellations, laying out on the floor.  Keith stood over him, looking down, disdain in his eyes.

“What’s that one called?”  He asked Keith, gaze sliding over to his.  “Can you remember?”

Keith stared at him.  Just stared.  His breathing was picking up and he strangled it into harsh control.  He could feel his anger growing inside of him, threatening to fill him until he popped.  “Where did you go?”  He asked, but the sound of his voice didn’t carry.

His father pushed himself up onto his hands, smiling softly.  “You used to love the stars.”

“Yeah?  I used to love you too.  A lot of good that did me when you _left me_.  What was so important you just never returned?  Why did you never come home?”

“Look,” his father said, pointing again.  

Keith turned his face up to the stars, snarl on his lip.  It fell off as he saw.  The sky was empty.  There were no stars.  Only darkness.  Only that gaping nothingness.

“Do you see all of them?”  His father asked.  “Can you remember?”

It bothered Keith more than he thought it should.  Like he was the last person in the world.  “...There’s nothing.”

“Save him,” his father whispered.  

Keith scowled, turning his face down to look back at his father.

Only, his father was gone.  In his place was a creature, eyes yellow, luminous and too-bright.  It reached for him, claws out, purple skin a jarring sight as it slipped from its robe.

It grabbed onto his arm, claws digging into his flesh, tearing into it, ripping away his skin.

And then he woke up.

It was morning.  His roommate was already half dressed and leaving out the door.  Keith’s alarm was going off right next to his head.  The timer read twenty minutes.  

Great.

“Sorry, man,” his roommate said, shrugging, but not sounding all that sorry.  “I tried to wake you, but you were sleeping like the dead.  It was really weird.  You wouldn’t budge at all.”

He left before Keith could snap at him.

He couldn’t be late, so, avoiding the arm that ached and burned, he slapped some clothes on and sprinted to class.  Started his shitty day all over again.

During lunch (not that he was looking, of course), Keith didn’t see Shiro or Matt.  He couldn’t explain why, but it made his bad mood turn even more sour.  They were always easy to pick out (not that he tried).  Shiro, as tall and as popular as he was, was always trailing a few dozen fans behind him, an arrow that always said, ‘he’s here! Come and get him!’

Not that it really mattered to Keith, of course.

But when he went to their usual room to meet him, Shiro wasn’t there either.  Keith sat and took out his homework, waiting, eyes casting around suspiciously on occasion, when Iverson finally came in.

“Kogane.  Forgot to tell you, Officer Shirogane is away on other business  He had to take the place of someone else last minute so he didn’t have time to warn you.  He won’t be here today, but he messaged in and needs this delivered.”  He shoved a folder at Keith.  “Consider it your task for the day.  Finish cleaning the chalkboards tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Keith said, looking down at the folder.

“Here are the directions.  It’s a bit of a walk, but students of your status aren’t allowed to bring the speeders.  Just follow the path and you’ll be fine.  You’ll see their campsite by the mountains.”

“Sir.”

Walking in the desert in the middle of the day was not on Keith’s bucket list.  It was hot all day, but especially in the afternoon.  He stripped his jacket, dropped it off into his room, and grabbed his sunglasses.

On the way out, he walked past the sim room and noticed, for once, it was empty.  

That was rare, but he supposed it was a random time of the day.

He stopped, staring into it.  On one hand, Shiro might be waiting, on the other, it was hot outside and evening would bring better walking conditions.

...He’d just take a moment.

Keith went inside and sat in the seat.  He knew, without a keycard, he wouldn’t be able to start up any sort of simulation he could fly through, but he could run through recordings.

He rested his head back against the rest as he started up the screen, scrolling through the options.  The top scores still belonged to Shiro, of course, and all of those he looked through.  A few at the bottom belonged to him.  He wondered what it might be like if he actually tried, if he wasn’t just exploring.  What sort of things could he do?

Keith found himself clicking on an old one of Shiro’s.  He’d seen them before, there wasn’t anything new to the maneuvers he hadn’t already memorized, but he found himself interested anyway.

This time, there was no one in the room to watch him watch the sim.  

And there, as it began, was Shiro on the screen.  People always looked beyond, through the screen in the recording, but never at the pilot.  

He was so different from Keith, so _good_ .  Even Keith was starting to believe that Shiro wasn’t faking it, he was just _like that_ .  That’s what scared Keith so much.  He was a _good person_ .  One of those kinds who would try to adopt Keith despite what the housemothers would say, or maybe even _because_ of what the housemothers would say.  He wanted to believe in others.

Shiro was dangerous.  Behind that smile was strength Keith would never have.  A light Keith would crumble beneath until his core was exposed, raw and open wide.

But there was something healing about staring into it, even knowing about the danger.  Shiro grinned brightly as he flew, his eyes wide with energy filled with wonder and excitement.

Shiro loved the sky.  It was overwhelmingly apparent, written across the brightness in his face.  He loved the space.  He loved the stars.  Everything he looked to filled his eyes with such a look of _being,_ of purpose.  This was what he was aiming for, these open spaces.  Even Keith, heart grown cold over the years, could see that.

Shiro was a good person.  Keith didn’t know what to do with that info.  He watched the screen through distant eyes, running his finger across his lip slowly, thoughtfully.  The light of the screen blared across Keith’s face but he just took it in, unable to look away.  Keith wasn’t sure why he was there or how he’d gotten to this point, staring at Shiro staring into space.  But he felt something inside of him softening.

It obvious.  Shiro was beautiful inside and out.  Something Keith could never be.

 

Despite the heat and the sand, it was nice to get out of the Garrison temporarily.  The colors seemed brighter outside, the air crisper and rejuvenating.  It eased a piece of his heart that had been holding onto too much tension.

Just walking.  It sure beat the crap out of cleaning toilets and shower stalls. You wouldn’t believe the state some of them were in.  

He was thinking about how he was already a few weeks into his punishment and it should be over soon enough, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

A rabbit.  Innocent and on its own, it was sitting a few feet away from the path next to a boulder, struggling with its foot, making small high noises that sounded a lot like distress.

Keith frowned.  He really ought to keep going; he had wasted enough time at the sim.  If he just did as he was told, went to their base, handed the folders, and returned immediately, he’d still actually have enough time to study for his tests and get his work done properly, like he’d always hoped he could.

He kept walking at first, watching it to see if the rabbit was actually in trouble.  Maybe it was just messing around.  He wasn’t a rabbit expert.  It squeaked again and it sounded an awful lot like a whimper.

Before he knew it, he was slowing down.

He didn’t know what to do with an injured rabbit, but he was going to Shiro and he would probably know.  He seemed like a rabbit person.

Cautiously, Keith adjusted the bag over his shoulder and crouched low, hands out.

“Come here, little guy,” he murmured softly, moving forward.  

It looked at him in fright, and before the next second could even pass, it was darting out into the wide open desert.

“Hey!  Wait!”  Keith called after it.  He looked down at the path one last time and then away, over at the rabbit.  

Well, it was just one tiny rabbit, and this was _Keith._  He was a good runner.  The rabbit would be no match.

He darted off the path, chasing it across the hot desert sand, around cacti and over rocks.  The thing was fast, faster than he had anticipated, and the challenge excited Keith, made it a game.

Keith always played to win.

It was part competitiveness and part boredom, but he let himself go.  Forgot about everything weighing him down and just ran.

When was the last time he had actually gone outside the Garrison’s grey walls?  It was unbelievably nice to feel the dirt’s soft give beneath his feet, the crisp warmth of the sun on his skin, and the wind’s maverick twists and turns blowing through his hair.  He needed a break every once in awhile or he’d implode.  He wanted to enjoy this chance to feel free.

He charged through the desert, completely forgetting himself.  The distance was closing between the two of them and soon, the rabbit would be in his grasp.  

In the distance, atop a tall rock, was a man.  Keith snapped his head to the right, blinking up to make sure he saw correctly.  

The man just stood there, staring down at Keith quietly, not moving.  Keith’s stomach dropped.

Familiar.  Too familiar.  His attention was caught like a hook as he stared, running only on automatic.

“Father...?”  he whispered, words hanging on his lips.

Intuition tugged his attention away from the man and forward.  He whipped around, skidding to a stop.

The dumb rabbit had ran up a rock and leapt, but there was no sound that followed.  Keith tripped as he tried to halt his momentum.  He rolled, hitting the rock hard as he used his hands to catch his speed before he flew off.  There was a big puff of sand floating in the air and he choked on it.

His head snapped up to where the man had been, but, of course, he was gone.  Keith was all alone.

Uneasily, he heaved himself up and looked over the rock.

The desert floor disappeared beneath him, opening up wide to a large cliff.  He hadn’t realized it, didn’t know the territory, and had trusted a spooked rabbit to lead the way.  He could see it down below, clinging to a small ledge barely larger than itself, squeaking like crazy.

“Shit,” Keith grumbled, looking around himself for something.  He didn’t know what could help.  A rope?  A really strong root?  But there was nothing unless he wanted a rock or dirt.

He looked back toward the Garrison.  He wasn’t even entirely sure where he was anymore; he hadn’t brought a compass or a map.  It was just him and his vague recollection of the run he had taken.  ...Very, very vague.

Again, he’d gotten ahead of himself.  He probably would be late getting back to the Garrison.  He still needed to deliver the folder to Shiro too.

But the rabbit was stuck.  It wouldn't be able to climb up.  It could fall, but the distance was too great.  What would be fatal for Keith would be ridiculous overkill for the rabbit.  But again, keywords: what would be fatal for Keith.

Well, he couldn’t just leave it.  It was partially his fault for chasing it, after all.  He’d just have to not fall.  As if it were that easy.

Carefully, he edged himself over the side of the cliff, shoving his shoes hard into the rocks and securing himself best as he could.  He had never really rock climbed, not professionally, but he used to claw his way up trees and rage his way up mountains and that was basically the same thing, right?

Only it wasn’t, because the side of the cliff was crumbling.  He was halfway to the rabbit, taking careful time to make sure each new move downward would hold him, when the rocks in his hold gave way beneath his hands anyways.

Cursing and clawing, he slid down the steep vertical wall, pressing himself to it in an attempt to gain some sort of traction.

He skidded to a slow halt, rocks tumbling down beneath him with a loud clatter.  He gripped onto whatever he could, his arms absorbing the shock of his weight and inertia.

The rabbit was dancing in its spot and he glared down at it, a few feet away.  

“You are a piece of shit,” he spat at the rabbit when the side of the cliff stopped moving.  “We’re both going to die because you didn’t use your _eyes_.”

It yelled back.

Carefully, moving about an inch a minute, he stretched from his core, reaching out for the rabbit.  He was close, but the rabbit was feisty and he didn’t have much leeway to fight with it.  When his hand finally met with fur, he snatched it by the neck, expecting a bite or a scratch, but it just wiggled angrily.

Before it had the chance to fight its way out of his hand, he quickly jammed it into his bag and closed the latch tightly.

There.  Perfect.  He barely even felt it in there.  He let his face clunk forward onto the cliffside, giving him a moment to collect himself.

Stillness settled around him and with it, his awareness of the situation: he was hanging off the side of a cliff, his hands on one rock the only thing holding him up.  Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Oh, shit,” he laughed, looking down.  

Wow.  He was lucky he wasn’t afraid of heights, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t hammering.  Small debris was falling off from his maneuvering, dipping down and out of sight.  He couldn’t see them touch the ground.

“Okay, Keith, okay.  You’ve got this.”  He muttered, tossing his head back to look above him for any good ledges to climb up.  God, it was daunting the other way.

Carefully, with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he charted a course to the top, carefully testing each tiny nook and jutted rock before letting his weight rely on it.  One tiny bit at a time.  He didn’t let himself stop to think of what might happen if he miscalculated.  Didn’t stop to think if his adrenaline died down in his veins and he had to rely on his own raw strength (would it be enough?).  He kept going, biting his lip, focus in his eyes.  

And finally, he met the edge.

It was harder to pull himself up than he’d like to admit, but when he did, he felt like he was a drowning man breaking the surface.  Relief flooded him, and for one stunning moment, he felt like life was precious and sacred.  He laughed, the sound near hysterical.

What a rush.

He pulled himself up gingerly to inspect the damage.  His bag was still, dutifully, hanging off his shoulder.  The package for Shiro hadn’t suffered any damage magically.  The cloth on his pants were completely torn, exposing bloodied knees.  But his hands - he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t felt it - they were rubbed raw.  Hardly any skin left on them, churned and vulnerable.  A gross bloody mess.

He still counted it as a blessing.  He was fine.  All he’d need were new clothes and a good excuse as to why he was chasing a fucking rabbit through the desert like a child.  He realized it sounded insane from all angles.

He turned to go back on the path - and realized it was gone.

The damn rabbit was going to be the death of him.  He knew he shouldn’t have cared and just left the damn thing the first moment saw it.  Keith could feel its warmth in his bag, nestled against his leg, but it didn’t complain.  He figured he’d release it a bit further away from the edge.  He wasn’t going to go back down a second time.

One last time, he turned toward that rock to the right, seeking out the figure.  It was almost funny that he kept thinking he’d seen his father.  He hardly even remembered his face.  Just minor details: dark hair.  A scar.  ...That was about it.  If he saw him, would he even recognize him?  Keith didn’t even know anymore.  But it didn’t matter.  There was no one there.  A trick of the desert, a trick of his eyes.  He didn’t know.

The sun was setting.  If he didn’t make it back soon, Iverson would find out.  And if Iverson found out, they’d have to send out a search party, and if they did that, he’d be in deep shit.  Deeper shit than he had been.  And there would go his chances at staying with the Garrison.

And where would he go then?  He might as well stay out here if that were the case.

He had to find his way back.  Quickly.

“Stupid rabbit,” he told it.  “You nearly had me killed.  Is that what you wanted?  Is that the universe’s message for me?”

Disgruntled, mad at the rabbit and mad at himself, he didn’t have the time to worry about his fate.  He could end up a skeleton out here, but that fucking rabbit he was going to make sure he’d find a way to curse for eternity.  He was thinking hard about how to serve this justice when he heard the sound of a speeder.

He jumped, looking up, and waved his hands.  

The headlights lit up a bright path before it, blazing past the wrong way.

“Hey!”  He cried on the top of his lungs, jumping up and down, trying to flag the person.  “Hey!  I’m over here!”

Nothing at first, and then, the sound of the engine slowing.

It backed up and redirected its course for him.

“Thank god,” Keith muttered.  Watch it be Anthony.  He’d just leave him in the dust and laugh.  Humiliating.

But it wasn’t.  It was a familiar face.  

“Tell me I’m dreaming,” the rider muttered.

Keith hustled over and said, dryly, “A nightmare?”

“What else would it be?”  Matt said slowly, tilting his head as if the angle would change who it was.  “…You’re not a ghost?”

“Not transparent,” Keith rolled his eyes.  “Mind telling me the way to get back?  I’m lost.”

Matt stared, brain overloading with confusion.  “Uh.  Walking back at night would be a horrible idea.  Predators and stuff.”  He frowned to himself, eyes grudging and upset already.  He said lowly, words dragging in defeat, “…Hop on the back.  I’ll bring you to Shiro.”

Shiro.  

Keith frowned, backing up and waving his hand in front of his face.  “No, definitely not.  No need.  I can get back myself.  Just point the way.”

“Shiro would have my head,” Matt said, resigned.  “I don’t even understand how you got all the way out here.”  He patted the back of his speeder with little enthusiasm.  “Come on.”

Keith groaned internally, but his knees were pulsing with every beat of his heart.  He supposed he couldn’t be too upset for a free ride when the alternative was staying lost in a desert without food or water.

The speeder was smooth and fast.  Keith sat as far back as he could, away from Matt, holding onto the back of the seat and tilting back, staring up at the moon.  It was full and bright.  

“Hey,” Matt said, hardly having to lift his voice over how soft the engine was.

“What?”

“I just wanted to say…  Shiro’s a good guy.  He’s straightforward and he means what he says.  And he does stupid things sometimes, but he just wants to help.  So just..if you could try to be good to him too.  He deserves that.  He’s trying to help you.  I kind of feel like you don’t know that.”

Keith remained silent, watching the stars flit by.

“I don’t know you,” Matt said.  “But I do know Shiro, and once he makes up his mind about something, that’s what he’ll do.  You’re in his orbit now.  There’s no getting away.  Just...make sure you don’t supernova, get it?”

“Supernova?  Like kill myself?”  Keith said dryly.

“Uh, no, don’t mess up and take him down with you.  He likes you.  Get it?”

“I get it,” Keith sighed.  “He’s a good guy.  He’s made of angel tears.  I know, I know.  I’ve heard it from everyone in the Garrison and then some.”

“But that doesn’t mean much to you,” Matt guessed.

“I don’t need to be cross-examined, okay?  Especially by you.  You care about your best friend.  Message received.”  And then, quieter, “I don’t plan on hurting Shiro.  He’s the one who keeps coming after me.”

“It’s like him,” Matt hummed, but he said no more and Keith turned his attention back to the world around them, moving past in blues and whites.

When Matt began to slow, Keith turned his attention back to the world.  

“Back so soon?”  he heard a familiar voice say.  “Could you not find it?”

And then a blaring silence followed.

“Shiro,” Keith sighed in greeting, pressing his lips together tightly and hopping off the back of the speeder.

“Keith?”  Shiro breathed, pulling his helmet off of his head.  “What on earth are you doing all the way out here?”

“Uh.  Looking for your base…”

“Out here?  Did Iverson send you?  It was just down the path, not even a mile from the Garrison.  We’re miles out here, Keith, in the wrong direction.  Are you lost?”  He squinted.  “Is that blood?”

“I might’ve gotten distracted,” Keith mumbled unhappily.

“Distracted in a desert?”  Shiro shook his head, looking floored.  “What happened to your hands?”

“Enough already,” Keith grumbled.  “Can I catch a ride?  I have your package here.”

Shiro stared as if he had no idea what the folder was for.  Then his eyes went back to Keith’s hands.  “What did you do?  Fall down a cliff?”  He said it like an exaggeration.

“…Erm…”

“Keith?”

Keith shrugged, allowing Shiro to rush forward and take his arms tenderly in his hands to inspect his wounds.  

“God, this looks horrible,” Shiro breathed.  “We have to go back.  Matt?”

“I know, I know.  I knew the second I saw him wandering around like a ghost in the night.  I almost thought he was a ghost, you know.  I almost kept driving.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Shiro said, still breathless.  He flashed an appreciative smile at Matt.

Matt preened.  “I do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

Keith knew this was his opportunity to thank him too.  Matt very well could’ve just saved his life.  But choking out a thank you was like seeking water in a dried out well.  He couldn’t manage it.  Swallowed dryly and looked guiltily at the floor.

“Can I have the folder?” Matt asked, holding his hand out.

Keith opened the bag to grab it and the rabbit poked its head out.

“Um,” Matt said, staring.  “That’s a rabbit.”

Keith rose his eyebrows.  “Oh.  I forgot.  It stopped squirming around and doesn’t weigh much, so…”

“Okay, um.  But why do you have a rabbit in your bag?  Are you going to eat it?”

Keith scowled and said heatedly, “What kind of rumors are you believing about me?  No, I’m not going to eat it.  Just…” going to curse it in the name of justice.  He hesitated, scrambling for a better explanation.  “I followed it out into the desert and then off…a cliff…”

“Is that how you hurt your hands?”  Shiro asked, face worried.

“You followed it off a cliff?  Why?”  Matt choked.

“It was stupid,” Keith admitted.  “I don’t know what I was doing.  I swear the thing has it out for me.”

“Riiight,” Matt said.  “Well, I’m going to take this package and be off then.  Thanks for the delivery and hopefully I never have to see you wandering around out here again.  Seriously, maybe get a bit of sun tomorrow.  You look like a ghost.”

Keith scowled.

Shiro said, “Matt, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When Matt thought Keith wasn’t looking, he winked.  “No worries.  I get it.  A bit too well.”

Shiro coughed.  As Matt drove away, he turned to Keith.  “I can drive you back to the Garrison.  …Your hands are going to need…some sort of medical intervention.”

Keith looked down at them and couldn’t even deny it - just sighed.

Shiro looked down at the rabbit.  “Honestly, why _do_ you have a rabbit in your bag?”

“It looked hurt.  I tried to catch it to bring to you.  I thought you’d know what to do.”

“...Me?”  Shiro said gently, looking down at Keith through soft eyes.

Keith gently set the bag down and let it crawl out.  It turned, looking up at him.  

“I think you might know better.  Looks like you made a friend,” Shiro laughed softly in surprise.

Keith reached out tentatively, going to pet it.  “Oh, look,” he said, frowning.  “So _that’s_ what it was complaining about.”  There was something small and sharp sticking out of its fur.  Carefully, he secured his fingers around it and pulled.

With one little squeak, the rabbit turned and took off running.

“Looks like he just wanted your help,” Shiro muttered.  “What was in its foot?”

“Uh,” Keith looked at it closely, leaning into the speeder’s light.  “Glass?”

“A piece of a star,” Shiro said.  

Keith looked up sharply, chills breaking out over his body.

But Shiro was smiling in easy jest. “And you say you’re a bad person...  You have an ally now.”

“A rabbit?  Lucky me.”

Shiro chuckled, reaching up to undo his collar from his neck and turn his head to the stars.  “We don’t get to see the landscape around us much, do we?  It’s beautiful out here at night, isn’t it?  I used to live in Japan.  I loved it there, but the skies weren’t like this.”

Keith looked up.  They coated the dark canvas about them with globs of whites and violets and greens.  Even Keith couldn’t find enough hatred within himself to not admire it.  “No, not where I lived either.”

With another one of his winning smiles, Shiro took his helmet from the seat and held it out to Keith.  

Keith shook his head.  “You only have one.  You should keep it.”

Shiro reached up and shoved the helmet over Keith’s head before he could protest again.  “Your mind is more precious.”  He swung a leg over the bike.

Keith slid onto the space on the back and stayed on the edge, like he had with Matt.  Shiro looked behind him, patting the space in between them.  “You’ll fall off that way.  Scoot closer.  Put your hands around my waist.”

“Um.  I don’t -”

“-Don’t tell me you’re modest.”  He chuckled.

Keith inhaled a deep breath to shoot back somehow, but Shiro just smiled.  Shiro said, “I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

Scowling and knowing he was rising to the bait, Keith scooted forward roughly and wrapped his arms Shiro’s med-section tighter than he needed to.

“Careful of your hands,” Shiro said softly as he started the engine.

The Garrison was in the distance, a small light in the midst of darkness.  Despite that, Keith did not want to go.  It looked cold so far off in the middle of an empty desert.  A box in the middle of sand.  All that waited for him were nightmares and scrubbing toilets.

His hands and knees were aching.  

“The nurse,” Keith said, raising his voice slightly.  He saw Shiro tilt his head slightly to listen.  “She’ll tell Iverson.”

“She has to,” Shiro explained.  “He’s in charge around here, we’re all under his protection.”

Keith frown at the choice of words.  “I’ll get in trouble.”

“For an injury?”

“I didn’t listen.  I went off the path.  I was supposed to deliver those right to you and I went chasing a rabbit.  He wouldn’t understand.”

Shiro hummed.  Keith could feel it against his chest, a low rumbling, like an engine itself.  “Why did you go chasing it?”

“I already told you.”

Shiro laughed, the sound soft and warmly amused.  Everything about him was always so warm and tender.  It was his soul on his sleeve to bear.  “I know, but not everyone would’ve.  That was nice of you,” he said lowly, light in his voice.

As the Garrison’s light got closer, Keith’s determination grew.  “Please don’t tell the nurse or Iverson.  I’ll clean it up in my room.”

“Those need stitches, Keith.  They’re already going to make things harder for you as it is.”  

That was right, Keith thought miserably.  How was he going to clean bathrooms and shower stalls without an infection?  He sighed.  He’d just have to keep pushing on and hope for the best.

“Iverson’s tough, but he’s fair.  Maybe if you talk to him -”

“It’s different for me,” Keith snapped.  “I’m not Golden Boy Shiro.  I don’t get breaks like you.”

Keith could feel Shiro’s chest expanding as he took a deep steadying breath in.  He said, softly, “Things aren’t always as perfect as they seem.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side?  You’re really going to give me that talk?”  Keith rolled his eyes.

Shiro sighed, slowing the bike down.  They had gotten to the front gate, beneath the gaudy spotlights.  Keith slipped off, pulling the helmet from his head and holding it out to Shiro.

The wind blew lightly, ruffling the back of Shiro’s undercut in playful swirls as he stepped over his bike.  Keith watched.  It looked soft.

Shiro turned, looking down at the helmet Keith offered out and taking it between both hands.  “Thanks,” he said.

“I should be thanking you,” Keith hummed.  “…So.  Uh.  ...Yeah....thanks...”  He cleared his throat roughly.  “I would’ve been lost out there still if it weren’t for you and Matt.”

“It’s nothing.  I can walk you to the infirmary.”

“Uh…no, I…  Please don’t tell Iverson.  You heard him the first time.  I’m walking a tight line and I keep messing up.  If I don’t have to say anything to him, I won’t.  And it’s late.  We’d have to call the nurse back in and she’s probably already asleep…  She’ll be irritated.  Iverson will be irritated.  It’s just bad all around.  Tell me you won’t say anything.  I’m a fast healer, I promise.  It’ll be fine.”

Keith watched as Shiro’s brow wrinkled.  Concern was oozing into his voice, “Keith.”  It sounded almost like a plea.

Shiro stepped forward and Keith, having always despised people stepping into his person space, took a suspicious step back.

The smile that grew on Shiro’s face was crooked and genuine.  They both stayed where they were, with plenty of space between then.

Shiro held his hand out for Keith’s.  “Fine.  I won’t say anything.  But in return, let me stitch it up for you.”

“You?”  Keith blurted.

“I have training.  I won’t have anesthetic, but I can get it cleaned and stitched properly.”

Keith watched his face.  That open naive face.  A child walking into a trap.  “You shouldn’t, you know.”

“Hm?”

“You shouldn’t associate with me.  I’m cursed or something, I don’t know.  I mean it when I say I’m a bad person.  You’d be smart to stay away.”

“I don’t think so.  What kind of bad person actually thinks they’re a bad person?” Shiro said easily, shaking his head with a small smile on his lips.  “Besides, no matter what kind of person you are, your hands are still in need of attention.  Unless you already know someone,” he challenged with an arched eyebrow.

Keith bit his lip, looking down at his hands.  They were still bleeding slightly, but only just.  It’d be wrong to go with Shiro.  It was a step toward him that Keith couldn’t undo.  And still, he heard himself ask, “Where would you get supplies?”

“I have some in my room.”

“Of course you do,” Keith sighed.  If he was adamantly refusing help from the nurse, this was a good second option.  Biting his lip, he turned back.  “I guess.”

Shiro’s answering smile was blinding.

Keith had been in his room once, sure, but it had been different.  He hadn’t remembered entering for one, so he hadn’t suffered the initial awkward air of stepping through someone else’s doorstep.  

He’d also been in Shiro’s bed.  His actual bed.  From Keith’s spot at the doorway, it seemed to glow like a sacred zone.  Keith would never approach it again lest he be struck down.

“Take a seat wherever,” Shiro said, walking dutifully to the bathroom.  “I can get you something to eat or drink if you want?”

“Is this really okay?”  The air was too casual.  Something felt wrong and uncomfortable, sitting on top of Keith’s chest.   “You were on a mission.”

“I’ll go back out in a bit.  This won’t take long.  Relax a bit.  That’s your problem.”

Keith immediately tensed.

“Here.”  A big box of medical supplies slid onto the table as Shiro sat.  “Give me your hand.”

Like a cat dipping its paw into cold water, Keith slowly forced his hand into Shiro’s.  All wrong.  It felt all wrong.  His whole body was fighting him, trying to twist and wriggle away.  He held strong, taking a deep breath and trying to focus, trying to be a normal person.

“You okay?”  Grey eyes were on him, waiting, hand still held tenderly.

“…I don’t normally get close to people,” he admitted through stiff stubbornness.

“It’s okay.  I’ll be quick.”

Shiro’s hands were warm and gentle.  Gentler than Keith had even thought they’d be, which was something, because, by now, he knew that everything Shiro did, he did with a gentle tenderness.

The pain in his hand as Shiro worked was a nuisance but it wasn’t horrible.  It wasn’t enough to distract him from the dark head of hair bent over in front of him, so close if he breathed too hard, the strands would tousle, so he preoccupied himself by looking around the room, trying to pick out hints to Shiro’s personality that he might not figure out otherwise.  Maybe he had a nerdy side - a comic book half-tucked away.  Or maybe he was an avid reader.  And ah - there was the stack of books by the bedside, tabs made of ripped pieces of paper littering the pages.  There were a set of reading glasses on the nightstand table.

“What are you reading?”  Keith asked mildly before he could realize what he was doing.  Being social.  What was wrong with him?  It made his stomach tighten with uneasiness.

But Shiro seemed happy.  He looked over at the books and pulled a face.  “Sorry for the mess.  I don’t normally have people over and I didn’t think to tidy before I left.  They’re nothing too fascinating.  Just about rocks on this world and potentially others.  There’s a mission coming up soon that I’m thinking of applying for.  Might be helpful.”

“Rocks?”  Keith found himself laughing, taking in all the different tabs that highlighted a piece of info on a _rock_.  “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“What does that mean?”  Shiro looked up with narrowed eyes, but he was laughing too.

Keith shrugged, pressing his lips together tightly.  “You just seem like a person who likes rocks?”

“Well, maybe I do.  They’re interesting!  Did you know there’s a ton of different types?”

“Is _that_ why they’re not all the same?”

“Oh.  You’re mocking me now, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?  Something like mocking the great and mighty Shiro?”

“Oooh,” Shiro’s face twisted into a wry smile.  “I’d be careful what you say.  I might be tempted to stitch the name of a rock into your hand.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Keith said confidently.

“No?”

“No.  You’d feel way too guilty the second you finished.  Maybe even before that.  You’d have to take it out and do it all again.  But then you wouldn’t want to do that either.  It’d probably be super painful for me.  And that would make you feel even more guilty.”

“You’re right.  I wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re not that twisted.”

Shiro snorted, reaching onto the table to grab a strip of gauze.  Carefully, his eyes focused and content, he wrapped Keith’s hand with just the perfect amount of pressure.  “Maybe I am.”

Keith shook his head again.  “No, you’re not.  I’d know.  I’ve got a good bullshit detector.”

“Oh, yeah?  Has it gone off at the Garrison yet?”

“Psh.  Just about everywhere.  Are you kidding?”

Shiro frowned, a troubled look clouding his eyes as his hands slowed on Keith’s bandaged hand.  He opened his mouth to say something, but the words stalled in his throat.  Pressing his lips together tightly, he switched out Keith’s hand for the other and got back to work.

Silence settled over them.  Keith wouldn’t call it uncomfortable, but there was tension in Shiro’s shoulders as he thought too hard, a pronounced divot on his brow.  

Keith had never been a curious person.  People’s own troubles were their own troubles.  But again, before he could catch himself, he was speaking without his own permission.  “You’re thinking hard.”

“Me?”  He took a deep breath - he did that a lot, like a soothing thing - and pursed his lips.  “I was just thinking of what we were talking about earlier.”

“Rocks?”

“Grass.  How everyone thinks there’s gold at the end of the rainbow.  Greener grass on the other side.  But you’re sitting on a lawn too, Keith.  And I can tell you with full confidence that the grass is very green.”

Keith couldn’t help it.  He knew Shiro was trying to help him, but he scowled.  “How would you know?”  He snarled lowly.

“The others pick on you, don’t they?  Not just Anthony and his friends.  I’ve seen people watch you in the hallways.  How they look at you at lunch.  You notice, don’t you?  How could you not...?”

Keith laughed, the sound so bitter it stung even him.  “Haven’t I told you before?  You’re talking about it as if it’s something new.”

Shiro gently slid his fingers onto Keith’s, pressing them there for support, encouragement.  He looked Keith right in the eyes and held his gaze, his eyes filled with so much genuine belief that Keith couldn’t breathe.  “They wouldn’t do it if they didn’t think of you as a threat.  They’d just leave you alone.  You’re gifted.  If you weren’t, Iverson would’ve sent you packing at the first sign of trouble, but instead, he bent the rules for you.  It’s very unlike him.  Unheard of.  Doesn’t that mean something?  You’re made to be here.  Really.  ”

Keith tore his gaze from Shiro’s in a desperate appeal to stop his heart from hammering.  He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice whatever it might be.  Excitement, vulnerability, shock, all of it, he tied together tightly and shoved it deep down back into his heart.  But it kept washing ashore.  “You…you really think so…?”  There was dejectedness, with a hint of the star-struck.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Shiro smiled.  “These people here are good people, they are, but it’s a difficult place and they’re struggling.  It’s hard for them to see you, the new kid, flying through everything so easily.”  He shrugged, his eyes taking on a different light - playful and mischievous.  “I might be a little jealous too.  You hardly read the chapters and you ace the tests,” he said coyly.

Keith’s face was doused with warmth.  “I - I read them!  You’ve seen me read them.”

“Yeah, I’ve watched you skim through them.  When I was taking these courses, I had to read very carefully and I was considered to be lucky back then.”

“Times have changed,” Keith tried.

“Same book,” Shiro chuckled.  “It’s okay, you know.  It’s alright to be brilliant.  Don’t hold back so much because others can’t take it.  That’s their problem.  You were given a gift and that’s not something to be ashamed of.”

Keith shoved out a heavy sigh.  He grumbled, “you make it sound so easy.”

With a final sound of scissors snipping, Shiro said, “it’s not.  Of course it’s not.  But you seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t let that stop him.”

Keith pursed his lips together tightly.  

“How does it feel?”

“Good,” Keith said, looking down at the perfectly wrapped bandages.  Of course they’d be perfect.  “Though I doubt you’re surprised.  Is there anything you’re not good at?”

Shiro thought for a moment as he gathered the supplies in his arms and carried them to the bathroom.  He called out, “I’m actually pretty clumsy.  I can’t cook to save my life.”  He re-emerged, still wearing his unbreakable smile.  “My brother, Ryou, he used to have to cook meals for me when my parents were away.  He was afraid I’d burn the house down.”

“I didn’t know you had an older brother.”  It was hard for Keith to imagine someone like Shiro tagging along behind someone he admired.

“Younger brother,” Shiro admitted, hands up.

The snorted laugh that Keith let out was inhuman.  “I guess it’s only fair that you suck at something.”

Shiro chuckled.  “Oh, so you _have_ been listening to Garrison gossip.  And here I was starting to think you were above it.”

Keith snorted and crossed his arms.

Quieter, Shiro murmured, “The rumors aren’t true, you know.”

“So you’re not the one to beat on the sim?”

“Well, that’s true, but everything else…I just work hard, same as anyone.  Same as you.  We all just have our different journeys.”

Keith thought about that.  Maybe the studying wasn’t the problem for him, but acclimating to the people sure was.  

“Is Anthony or anyone giving you problems still?”

Keith shook his head.  “I haven’t seen him around lately.  I think I heard he was too traumatized so he took a vacation to Hawaii.”

Shiro closed his eyes and huffed out a small laugh.  “You were pretty fierce.  Like a panther.  I thought I’d have to grab you by the scruff to get you off of him.”

“I’m not good with people,” Keith said softly.  “…That’s my weakness.”

“Weakness?”

“Like yours is cooking.  Mine’s people.”

“I don’t know about that.  You and I get along just fine.”  His arms were crossed over his chest as he watched Keith, slight friendly concern on his brow.

“I have a feeling you’d get along fine with a rock, too,” Keith sighed, pushing himself up to his feet gingerly, watching the pain in his hands.  It wasn’t too bad.

“You know, my parents used to say that.”

“Again,” Keith smirked. “Not surprised.”

“You think you know me, huh?”  Shiro challenged.

“Definitely.  You’re tall, smart, and handsome.  What’s not to know about a picturesque life?  I bet when you sing, animals flock from the forest to help you clean up.”

Shiro rose one amused eyebrow, trying to hide a coy smile between tight lips.  “You’re right about the animal thing.”

“You know what, actually, I’d love to see that sometime.”

“But everyone’s got their struggles, Keith.  Everyone.  Even me.”

“Yeah?  Tell me then.  I’m listening.”

Shiro assessed Keith, gazing at him carefully.  Keith bared it, staring back at him with challenge.

Whatever Shiro saw - or didn’t see - didn’t manage to pull his secrets from the depths of his heart.  Keith could tell from the second Shiro averted his eyes that he was retreating in forfeit.  

So everyone had secrets, even golden boys.  Interesting.

Shiro’s posture slouched a bit and he ended up just shrugging.  “The world’s not perfect for anyone.  Everyone struggles.”

“Those record breaking sim scores must really be a thorn in your side, golden boy,” Keith drawled.

Something sharp shot across Shiro’s face.  Keith blinked.  Vulnerability.  Was it pain?  Insecurity?  

Keith squinted, trying to scope out details.  Keith was good with details, good at pushing buttons.  He’d had to make a living out of it scaring those who needed it (everyone), but Shiro’s face was perfectly composed again, as if there’d never been any peak of emotion at all.  

Keith licked his lips and asked, “…Do you not like being called ‘golden boy’ or something?”

“What?  No.  No, it’s not that,” he muttered lowly, brushing his hair out of his face and looking over at the clock.

“Then…what?”

“Uh, it’s nothing, but I really have to get back before Matt sends out a search party.  Are you going to be alright?  Your hands are okay now?”

“Yep.  Sure.  Thanks for the hands and uh, making sure I didn’t die in the desert.  Tell Matt I said thanks again.”

“And thanks for delivering those samples.  Next time you’re delivering things, no need to go that above and beyond.”

Keith snorted.  “Yeah, yeah.  …Okay.  Goodnight.”

“‘Night, Keith.  I might not be back tomorrow for our session.  We’ll see.  I’ll try.”  And his tone sounded like he really would.

There was a strange pulling sensation in Keith’s heart that tugged at him urgently.  He tried to write it off as indigestion, but then remembered distantly, that he hadn’t eaten in hours.

Hastily, with one last quick wave, he pushed the door open and sped out of there.

Before his heart could persist.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd update again today because...uh....why not?
> 
> Comments are looooveeed. (♥ω♥ ) ~♪
> 
> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me on [Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	5. Chapter 5

Shiro was always surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls.

It was ridiculous.  Keith didn’t know how he survived it.

It had been especially bad lately.  They were hanging all over him, breasts pouring as best as they could from their unbuttoned shirts in an obvious plea for attention, their sharp-nailed hands all over his arms, squeezing his muscles like he was a piece of meat, not a person.  It was sickening.  

Shiro had a full-time job gently taking their hands in his and prying them off his body, forced laughter pouring out of him and of course, that stupid grin.

It wasn’t like he was even that fit.  He was nearly normal.  Keith didn’t get it.

But if he really thought about it, there were things that he could understand.  For one, that smile.  That dumb smile he always wore even when - no, _especially_ when - he was uncomfortable,  was absolutely positively… endearing.  And then when he did that little flick of his head, movement smooth and (had to be) practiced to get his forelock out of his eyes…that was sweet somehow.  And his eyes...just the shape of them alone was breathtaking, but then add the color, silver, enchanting...

Keith put a harsh and ironclad grip on his thoughts.  He had never really thought of much of anything as ‘sweet’ and he sure as hell hadn't thought of anything ever as "enchanting", and he wouldn’t start now.  Hell, no.

Keith wouldn’t know why everyone was attracted to Shiro like magnets.  Like bears to honey.  Like trouble to Keith.

He wasn’t a fawning girl or anything.  He’d never hang over Shiro like that.  Like some Barbie.  He had dignity.

He frowned into his bowl of macaroni and cheese.

It wasn’t like he was jealous or anything.

Keith didn't get jealous.

Definitely not.

Seeing Shiro doused in an admiring audience, trying to walk, but so beloved, so popular that he couldn’t break away, well, that was just sickening.

So untouchable.  It was like he was a freaking celebrity or something.  He was finally back from his mission, but he was still just as occupied.  Maybe worse.  If Keith had fallen off a cliff now, Shiro wouldn’t be able to see over the mountain of girls crawling up his arms trying to snuff the life out of him.

It wasn’t like Shiro was his.  That didn’t even make sense.  The feeling rising up inside of him - that didn’t make sense.

Shiro was hardly a friend.  He was a good mentor.  That was all.  Strictly school-related, like anyone else in Keith’s life.

…That was right.  To trust would be to jab yourself in the back.  It would be his fault, really, when he ended up getting hurt.

Shiro was a person and to be a person was to be a traitor.  

That was that.

Keith ate through his lunch quickly, before the group of girls could give Shiro a chance to breathe and make his way over.

He was on the last hasty bite when Shiro turned, eyes searching, until they stopped on Keith.  Several of the girls turned but quickly looked away when they saw it was no one.  Shiro attempted to step around them, pointing, explaining.

Keith was already gone, tossing his bag over his back as he sped out.

 

“Hey,” Shiro said as he crossed through the room’s threshold and tossed his bag onto the table.  He was slightly breathless, flicking a bit of his hair out of his face as he grinned down at Keith, late.

“Hey,” Keith said back, forcing himself to keep his sight down.

“I was looking for you at lunch, but it seems you ran away.”

“Oh…  Yeah, I…had something to do.”

“Yeah?”  Shiro said airily, letting himself fall into his seat with a content sigh.

Keith observed him.  He looked more tired than usual, bags beneath his eyes and the bangs of his hair matted against his forehead.  So he sweat too, interesting fact to know.  Human after all, maybe.  

Muscles lax, Shiro swiveled slightly from side to side in his chair as he closed his eyes and hummed to himself.  

“Something happen today?”  Keith asked.

He continued to swivel back and forth, the chair squeaking with each turn.  “Since you asked, I broke another record in the flight sim today.”

“Ah, congrats.”  Keith meant it.  It was another challenge he could face, an excitement.

“Thanks,” Shiro flashed that grin as he peeled himself from the back of the seat and blinked his eyes open.  He leaned forward, on his hand.  “Though I actually owe it to you.  I tried that thing you did yesterday.”

Keith felt a smile growing on his face.  “Risky.  Iverson looked like he was going to blow a fuse when I came out of the sim.”

“No, it was brilliant.  It felt amazing.”

Keith closed his eyes, remembering.  “Like pure energy.”

“Pure energy,” Shiro agreed, watching Keith's face with a small smile on his lips.  “Where’d you come up with something like that?  You said you were never trained before?”

“Nah.  I just…”  He shrugged. “Did it.”

“Incredible.”  Fiddling with his bag, Shiro started taking out his lunch: an apple, a PB&J sandwich, and some juice.  

“I was busy all lunch,” Shiro explained as he noticed Keith’s watchful glance.  “Everyone was excited about the new record.  Well, you’d know about that.”

“Hm…”

Mouth full of apple, Shiro looked up, investigating Keith’s lack of response.  “…Maybe not, huh?”  Chewing the rest of his bite, he put his apple down.  Squinting his eyes thoughtfully, he said, “You’re not missing anything.  I appreciate everyone’s enthusiasm, but let me tell you, it can be exhausting.”

“No, I’d hate it.  I already know.  I get stressed just watching them around _you_ from an entire cafeteria away.”

“Augh, I know.  I just want to have lunch with Matt and you in peace sometimes.”

Keith laughed softly.  “Well, at least everyone likes you.  That’s got to be nice.”

Shiro looked up, almost in surprise, but then a wry smile spread across his face.  “Yeah, I mean...yeah.”

“It’s not nice?”

“No, it’s nice.”  Shiro grabbed his juice and took a mouthful.  As he capped it back up, he said,  “My younger brother, Ryou, he’s old enough to apply to the Garrison next year.  He’ll be your junior.  It’s been his dream for a long time and he’s brilliant.  I have no doubt that he’ll fly up to the top, probably higher than me.  He practices on our Dad’s flight sim way more than I ever even thought to.  You two might become rivals, who knows.”  He chuckled.

“If he’s anything like you, then probably.”

“What?  Why? We get along together, don’t we?”

“I was kidding,” Keith laughed softly.

Shiro let out a small, “oh”, smiling to himself before continuing.  “Ryou and I are pretty alike.  He’s a little quieter, though - got a bit more a mischievous side.  Do you have any siblings?”

A harmless question, but Keith felt himself closing off immediately.  He shook his head.  “Uh. No.”

“Too bad.  I feel like you’d be a good big brother.”

“Me?”  Keith choked.  “I think you’re confusing me for the wrong person.”

“No, not at all.  You have a kind protective heart.  You’re smart and watchful.  A brother’s a lot like a best friend, and anyone would be lucky to have you as theirs.  I feel like you'd really look after them.”

Keith pressed his lips together firmly, off balance.  “You definitely have the wrong person.”

“Keith Kogane.  Deadly when he needs to be, but kind in his heart.”

Keith laughed softly.  “...Thanks.”  He rubbed at his cheek and bit his lip.  “...You too, you know.  You’re...you’re good with people and kind.  Your brother’s lucky to have you.”

Shiro’s elbow slipped off the desk in surprise.  He blinked at Keith, eyes wide.  “Th-thanks,” he said.

“Well,” Keith said lowly.  “Unless he needs you to cook something for him.”

Shiro laughed, shaking his head.  “That’s true.  Good thing he’s a good cook or we’d be out of luck.”

Keith chuckled softly.  “I’d bet you’re better than me at least.  I don’t know if I’d be able to figure out how to boil noodles, honestly.  Coming here was nice; everything’s already prepared so I don’t have to worry about setting the place on fire.”

Shiro was nodding through his laughter.  “Me too!  A huge bonus.  Imagine the day we’ll have to prepare our own meals...”

“When you put it that way, despite everything, there _are_ some good points to the Garrison.”  Keith hummed, thinking of his last days in the orphanage.  The world had seemed fixed for him at that time; of course it wasn’t.

But he didn’t have to cook, so that was a bonus.  He had a warm bed and a roof over his head, and even if he’d gotten into some trouble, he was still on his way to piloting in space.  He also had Shiro as a mentor.  There were things to be grateful for.

Shiro’s laughter had softened and faded and he stayed there, watching Keith through thoughtful eyes.  “I wish it was even better for you though...  You’re not happy here, are you?”

Keith jolted upright, uncomfortable with such a direct question.  “Happy?  Uh...  I don’t know.  I mean, I guess things could be worse, but they could be better too.  But that could just be me.  I don’t know if I’ve ever really been happy anywhere, so...”

Shiro ran a thoughtful finger over his jaw.  “The Garrison isn’t always the friendliest place.”

“What are you saying?”  Keith rolled his eyes.  “I think you experience ‘friendly’ all day long, every day.”

Shiro shrugged, frowning slightly as his eyes fell to the desk.  They pulled into the distance.  “Ryou has all these big ideas of how the Garrison will be, but then again, so did I.”  His perfect Shiro face slipped a bit, and he was staring down at his hands with a perplexing look in his eyes.  It was a whisper away from sadness, a faint longing.  “I wish he’d never come honestly.”

Keith blinked, pencil slowly slipping from his fingers and onto his desk.  “…Why not?”

Shiro took in a deep breath.  “...I don’t know why I said that.  I’m sorry.  Let’s just drop it.”

“No, I -”  Keith leaned forward, reaching his hand out for Shiro’s.  He realized what he was doing at the last second, jerking away, bringing his hand back to his lap.  “I mean...  You wish you’d never come to the Garrison?”

“No, it’s not that,” Shiro shook his head.  “It’s definitely not regret like that.  I love what we’re all working toward together here, it’s just...  I don’t know.  It’s so dumb.”

“If you want to rag on the Garrison, I’m all for it,” Keith said, leaning forward onto his hands and looking up at Shiro’s face.  “I won’t think it’s dumb.  If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s complaining about everything.”

Shiro looked up at Keith, surprise in his eyes again.  And then he smiled.  “Okay, but it’s going to sound _really_ dumb.  You’re going to think less of me.”

“Honestly, after you tried to force me to eat that banana muffin, that was kind of it.  There really isn’t anything worse you can do.”

Shiro laughed into his hand and then rubbed at his face with it.  “Banana muffins are _good_ .  You need your _potassium_.”

Keith just fixed him with a steady stare and small smile.

“Well...  It sounds so ungrateful, but it’s just...  Once you hit one milestone, everyone expects you to reach the next.  It’s all about glory, all about expectations.  And it almost kind of feels like I’m betraying the very reason I first entered the Garrison.  At what point is it not about the sky anymore?  If I were to fail tomorrow, everyone would find their next hero.  No one would stay.”

Fake.  People were fake.  They’d smile and cling to Shiro’s arm one day and turn their backs on him the next.  Keith could feel the _I told you so_ bubbling up inside of him.  Don’t trust people, his mind always said, but somehow, the words felt wrong to say.  It wasn’t what Shiro needed.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Keith thought of the glow in Matt’s eyes whenever he looked toward Shiro, the admiration.  It was different from the rest, it was familial.  Warm.  “Matt would.  Who needs the rest of them?”

A smile grew on Shiro’s face.  It wasn’t the face that Shiro gave more than he didn’t - that face was beautiful too, sure, but it was typical.  This smile was different.  Keith didn’t know how to explain it, only that it made him feel breathless and light.  It made his fingertips tingle.  It was the way it pierced Shiro’s eyes.  The way it made him look vulnerable and limitless, like Keith could reach inside his soul and he’d pull out twinkling stars and globs of midnight blue sky.

“That’s true,” Shiro said.  “And you’re stuck with me until our mentoring sessions are over, at least.”

Keith laughed into his hand.

Shiro shrugged.  “Who needs the rest?”

“You like the rest,” Keith observed.

“It’s just…  I don’t know.  I guess it’s just like anywhere.  How do you really know who your friends are?  I’ve been first on the sim for so long, no one’s even come close until you came along.  It’s like I’m this untouchable god to them, not a person who makes _mistakes_ sometimes.  It’s an exhausting pretense to have to try to keep up and it’s _ridiculous_ \- people treat me like I’m not just one of them who just came here because I loved the idea of finding what’s _beyond_.  Sometimes I don’t feel like a real person anymore.  It's like...everyone's at a party and I'm the only one not invited because of some stupid reason that's not even true.  When people come up to me, what are they really there for, you know?  I'm just me.  I don't think anyone actually realizes that.”  He sighed, rubbing at his arm self consciously.

“Everyone has you on a pedestal,” Keith hummed, thinking about it.  “I hate it too.  It’s different for me, but I really thought, when I first came here, that maybe we’d all relate because of our love for space.  That maybe I wouldn’t have to fight anyone anymore...  That we'd all be on the same wavelength or something.”

Shiro’s frown grew sad as his eyes rose to Keith’s slouched posture.  “When I first saw you in the sim, I was...”  He took in a deep breath and held it.  “It reminded me of why I first came here.  Every time I watch you, I see the way your face lights up when you’re flying through space, even if it’s a simulation you still feel it.  Your genuine love for it...  But then other people have to treat you like trash because you’re better than them.  That’s not a love for space, that’s just pettiness.”

“When you put a group of people together, it’s inevitable.”

“Yeah, I get that.  It’s just...exhausting.”  Shiro swiped a hand over his face and groaned.  “God, this is so embarrassing...  I sound like such a brat.  I meant to lead this back into a lesson somehow, but I got lost along the way and now I’m just outright complaining to you like I’m two years old and not your mentor...  I’m sorry, Keith.  It’s been a long day.”

“No.  Mentor or not...  You want people to like you for  _you._ Doesn't everyone?"

Shiro looked up at Keith almost in surprise.  "You too?  You always seem like nothing touches you."

Keith let out a breathy laugh and smiled wanly.  He scratched his nose, averting his eyes and avoiding the question.  "Of course there are people who like you for you, Shiro.  It’s obvious even to me.”

"...Yeah, I guess.”

“Maybe you need to lose to find out who your real friends are.  People will realize you're not as untouchable as you seem.”

Shiro laughed, a look like longing crossing his face.  He tilted an amused look toward Keith. “Being in second sounds strangely nice...  One day maybe.”

“Maybe soon.”

Shiro laughed again, louder, with more feeling.  “I have no doubt as far as you’re concerned.  I’ll look forward to it.”  But his eyes were still sad with resigned disbelief.

Keith was not an underachiever by any means.  Keith made promises and he’d fulfill them, dammit.  Even if it meant to cash in his hard earned trust to sneak through his mentor’s bag and steal his keys.  Even if it meant stealing away through the Garrison after their strict lights out and running through empty hallways in a nervous crouch.  

Keith knew it’d be certain death if he got caught.  So he just wouldn’t get caught.

He had made it through the dorms just fine, but the flight sim was in the heart of the Garrison, past the teacher’s lounge and about as close to Iverson’s room as it could get.  Convenient, as Keith’s life always was.

The light was on to the teacher’s lounge, so he hugged the wall closely, ducking further than was probably necessary, and straining his ears for any sound of movement.  

Each step was one further away from safety and into danger.  He could hear them talking, soft murmurs plain as day.  The gentle sniff from allergies.  

“That Shirogane is something else, isn’t he?”  Keith heard and stopped.

“Yeah,” someone else snorted.  “Did you see Iverson’s face when he beat his last score?  I thought he was going to have a stroke.”

“Perfect Takashi Shirogane,” they sneered out, voice dripping with obvious jealousy.  “I bet he’ll get the Kerberos mission, too.”

“If he asks, he’ll receive.”

“It’s sickening.”

“I’m so tired of hearing about him.”

“Don’t worry; you’re not the only one.  Everyone is.”

Everyone.  Keith had half a mind to go in there and tell them off.  Logical or not, his blood boiled.  He struggled with it, fighting to tame himself.  His rage wouldn’t help, but freeing Shiro from his pedestal might even just a little.

The rest of the way sneaking through the hallways went fine, much to Keith’s relief.  Even Iverson’s door remained closed and dormant.

Shiro’s flight sim pass had been haphazardly shoved at the front of his bag’s pocket, but that didn’t lessen the feeling of guilt that flashed through Keith as he slipped it out of his pocket.  

Shiro’s unassuming smile looked up at him from the badge.  He probably should’ve just…asked, but -

Too late now.  

He swiped it through the door’s lock and it beeped merrily, swinging open.

Keith slid through the opening and shut the door quietly.

Nice.  He was home free from here.  

Forgoing the lights for stealth, he felt his way through open space to get to the simulator.  It always was weird walking to it.  His mind was telling him that every success he had had in it was a fluke, that this was where his failures would begin.  Maybe he couldn’t help Shiro after all.

He found himself looking back down at Shiro’s pass, at his happy innocent eyes staring back.  The soft little tuft of hair swooping over his forehead.  The pink  in his cheeks.  Keith thought of the darkness that had entered his eyes as he spoke of everyone’s expectations of him.  Thought of the sad small laugh he had let out when he thought he had failed Keith somehow by complaining about his own thoughts.  Like it was illegal to have his own thoughts or something.  That was ridiculous.

Feeling bold again, Keith walked into the sim and looked over everything.  The situation wasn’t ideal.  What he needed was a team.  A co-pilot, an engineer maybe.

But the sims were made for presenting challenges, and Keith would just have to fix them.

He slipped Shiro’s card into the slot and large font saying, “Takashi Shirogane. Test Flight: 5989” flashed through the screen.

“Shit,” Keith muttered, leaning over the dashboard and trying to switch his name out.  No luck.  He wasn’t horrible with technology, but he wasn’t going to be able to overwrite the system.  

“What are you doing?”  A voice startled him from behind.

Keith whipped his head around, hand clacking over the controls.

It was Matt.

Somehow, he must've seen the sim's light illuminating in the darkness. The blue of the screen lit him up like an avenging ghost.

In the quiet, they both stared each other down.  Matt wasn’t magically blowing away with the wind.  Keith winced and stared dumbly.  “Um?”

Matt’s answering frown was thunderous, eyes narrowing darkly on Shiro’s name blaring across the screen.  “What is Shiro’s name doing there?”

“I -  It’s not…  He let me take it.”

“He what?”

“No!  I -  I don’t...”

“You _stole his pass?_!  Are you kidding me?  Do you understand all the trouble he’s been through for you these past weeks? You repay him by stealing his card?”

“I-”

“He’s literally defended you from anyone and anything that came your way.  He stuck his neck out for you!  He’s a good guy.  One of the only decent people I’ve met and you just - you just -”

“I didn’t-”

Matt’s face wrinkled in disgust as he turned his body away, repulsed.  “What kind of monster are you?”

“Monster,” Keith breathed, feeling the wind knocked from his lungs.  It would be one thing if this were any random stranger, but this was Matt, Shiro’s best friend and confidant.  And what Matt said would be directly passed on to Shiro.  And what Shiro heard about him…  Keith shook his head, scrambling so desperately his mind was slipping on ice.  “No, wait, let me explain.”

“You literally just lied to me.  You’re stealing to have a little midnight run on the sim.  Who says I can trust anything you say? Give me his pass _now_. ”

“Just listen,” Keith begged.  “I’m trying to help.”

“Ha!   _That's_ what it looks like. Wait until Iverson hears about this.  I knew I was right about you.  Shiro’s just bewitched and it’s made him so stupid. Maybe next time he’ll listen.”

Matt was already turning around and leaving, muttering the last of his words to himself.  If he made it out that door, that'd be it for Keith.

But for some reason, all he could think of was Shiro's disappointed hurt face when Matt told him what he had seen, how Keith had betrayed him.

“I said, _wait_ ,” Keith yelled, leaping over the pilot chair and blocking Matt’s way out, arms spread wide.  He hadn’t felt so bold in a long while, but he did now, pressing forward into Matt’s space and growling.  “ _Listen to me_.  I was going to give it back.  I just wanted to do something for him.”

Matt stepped back, a nervous reflex.  He brought himself up, crossing his arms tightly, attempting to glare Keith down.  “I-is that so?”

“He’s been upset today, hasn’t he?”

Matt rose his eyebrows.  “I don’t…I don’t think so.”

“He’s smiling,” Keith muttered in frustration.  “He’s always smiling, but sometimes it’s different.  Sometimes it’s just a reflex.  Like today.”

“He just broke another record today,” Matt gestured to the controls tiredly.  “I doubt there’s much that could pull him down.”

“That is exactly what’s pulling him down.”

“What?”  Now, Matt looked truly confused.

“He feels weighted down by everyone’s expectations.  He’s always been the best, no one can beat him.  He’s lonely, I think.”

Matt scrunched up his face.  “ _Lonely_.”  Matt wrapped his mouth around the word as if he didn’t know the meaning.

Keith took in a sharp breath.  “He’s the best.  He’s always been the best.  Doesn’t that seem tiring?”

“No.  No, not really.”

Keith sighed.  “Look, just…  I wanted to try to beat his score.  Not for myself.  Just so…he knows, you know?  He knows that it’s not just about that.  That he doesn't have to be alone in this.”

Matt shifted onto one foot, looking Keith over.  “Let me get this straight.  You're trying to make him feel better....by making his new score that he worked on for years...second.”  

“ _Yes.”_

Matt looked even more confused than before.  “...You’re not lying?”  He asked, finally.

Keith shook his head.  

“Well, I can't say I understand, but I’d like to see you try.  I’ve heard you’re good and all, but this is Shiro we’re talking about.  He’s a genius.  I’m going to stay here and watch you make a fool of yourself.  How’s that sound?”

“Good,” Keith said slowly, looking over at the empty seat beside his own.  “You can co-pilot.”

Matt groaned, dragging himself to the seat and slouching over it.  “I just did today.”

“Make yourself useful.  You said you wanted to see me crash and burn, right?  This is the best front row seating you can get.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Just don’t make any sudden turns.  I get nauseous.   _Nauseous._ ”  He sniffed, looking back up at Shiro’s name burning brighting into the screen.  He nudged his head toward it, eyebrow raised.  “You were just going to leave his name in there?  Isn’t that kind of the opposite of the point?  The high score would still have his name attached to it.”

“I don’t know how to change it.”

“Amateur.  My sister could’ve figured this out when she was three.”  

Keith tossed his hands into the air.  

“Let me change it really quickly.”  He disappeared underneath the dashboard for a few moments. Shiro’s name dimmed into nothingness and then Matt reappeared.  “Okay.  We’re good.”

“No name at all?  That’s your solution?”

“A phantom.  Cool, right?”

Keith nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  Cool.”  

Without more preamble, he started the sim, and the rest…was history.

A few hours later, he and Matt were gasping for air, sweat drenching through their uniforms and smiles plastered on their faces.  

The new high score was flashing across the screen merrily.  It wasn’t miles from what Shiro had done, but it would be enough for now, so Keith was content.

“I can’t believe it!”  Matt crowed, pumping his fist into the air.  “You’re incredible!  A fighter pilot prodigy for sure!  I thought Shiro was over-exaggerating this whole time.  No wonder Iverson kept you here.”

“One strike and I’m out though.”

“Pfft,” Matt laughed.  “Yeah, right.  Not when he reviews this tape.”

Keith slouched back into the pilot seat wearily and checked his watch.  He closed his eyes and groaned.  “We might as well start getting ready for classes.  It’s way too fucking early in the morning for this.”

“What are you complaining about?  We still have an hour left.  Come on!  You need rest so we can celebrate tomorrow!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith sniffed, pulling himself up.  Tired as he might’ve been, there was warmth spread throughout his chest that made him feel more energized than he had in ages.  Months, years, maybe his whole life.  He had done something for someone and it had actually turned out alright.  “Thanks for helping,” he realized he could say to Matt.  It felt right to say it.  After all, he helped.  Without him, Keith might’ve literally been there all night.  “I didn’t realize you were such a tech-y genius.”

“I wouldn’t say genius.  But I do alright.”

“Uh-huh.”

“There’s much to learn. Hey.  You go on ahead.  I want to make sure everything’s shut down.”

Keith frowned, looking back.  “It’s just a switch.  I might not be your level of nerdhood, but I can manage something like that on my own, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Humor me,” Matt said, bending beneath the dashboard again.  “See you tomorrow.”

Too tired to protest, Keith decided to take the last remnants of sleep he could have and went to his room.

Too soon, he was waking up again, but he found himself not absolutely loathing the action.  He couldn’t wait for lunch, or maybe for after classes, when he and Shiro would get to talk.  Would Shiro even notice?  

There was a buzzing in the halls, a muted excitement that tingled across the floors.  Keith was too preoccupied to notice anyone.  But it was in his first period, seated and waiting for the teacher to arrive, that he heard the girls in front of him chattering eagerly.

“Did you hear?”  She leaned forward on her desk furiously.  “Living Legend Shirogane has a secret admirer.”

Her friend crinkled her nose and crossed her legs, barely looking up from her tablet.  “This is news how?  Doesn’t he have like fifty?”

“This was hacked into the Garrison’s computer systems.  A _confession_ from a new techy genius student.”

“What?  But…why would they do that?”

“Super fan,” the girl drew the words out with heavy mystery.

“That’s…creepy.  What did Mr. Living Legend think of that?”

“Dunno yet.  I can’t wait to ask Tracey.  She’d so know.”

Keith was frowning.  Secret admirer?  Hacking computers?  New student?  No mention of the sim or a new score...  That had to be only one person and that person was…no one he knew.  Secret admirer.  Who?  It haunted Keith.

Of course something like this would happen on the one day he wanted Shiro’s attention.

He was just a little disappointed.  Okay, a lot.  He spent all of last night messing around for nothing.  He should’ve expected as much.  It was really only his fault for getting his hopes up.  That’s what he got for trying so hard and putting his heart into something.

This was nothing new.

At lunch, Keith sat in his usual corner, jamming his food in his mouth quickly.  He already knew how this tale ended, but he couldn’t help himself.  His eyes lifted and he searched the room.  It wasn’t hard to find his target.

There was Shiro by the entrance, hardly two steps into the cafeteria before he got swarmed.  He was so surrounded by ravenous admirers wondering the details that he wouldn’t even be able to afford a glance over at Keith.  Typical. So fucking typical.  

Keith took in a steady breath and let it out into a sigh.  Whatever.  It wasn’t like this was supposed to be for himself, it was supposed to be for Shiro.  If Shiro saw tomorrow, or the next day, then that’d be good too.  

But the emptiness at his lunch table made his chest ache.  He didn’t like it.  He didn’t know why it was doing that or how to stop it.  He frowned.  Indigestion probably.  Always eating too quickly.

After class, he made his way through the hallways to his and Shiro’s room.  That buzzing was still there, the wonderment.  Apparently, Shiro’s love life was an important topic for some reason Keith couldn’t really understand.  They didn’t even know him.

Standing at a locker in the hallway was a familiar head.  

Anthony.  

Keith tensed immediately, even though he was turned the other way.  Anthony's vacation was apparently over.  

Keith tried to sneak past, but it was like Anthony had a tracker on him.  Slowly, he turned.

Even out of Keith’s peripheral, he could see Anthony’s eyes scraping over him, the cocky smile on his mouth, the wicked glint in his eye.

That wasn’t what Keith wanted to see.  He had hoped the first fight had scared Anthony enough, but from the looks of it…  

Keith didn’t know how to solve it without using his fists.  He sighed, pushing the door open wearily, wondering if Shiro would have any advice for that problem.

It was Matt in the seat instead, feet resting on the desk and crossed easily.  He was the picture of casual.

“Afternoon, kiddo.”

“My name is Keith.”

“You sure?  You sure it’s not TakashiLuvr17?”

Keith frowned, dropping his backpack’s dead weight into the seat in front of Matt.  “What are you talking about?”

An evil glint as Matt winked. “You don’t know?”

“And what are you doing here anyway?  This time is for Shiro and me.”

Matt laughed openly.  “Getting jealous?”

Shiro came in through the door, face shoved into his tablet.  “Hey, Keith,” he said, smiling as he saw him.  “Matt, get out of my seat.”

“So rude!  After all I do for you two!”

“All you do is cause mischief.”

“Fun mischief though, right?”

Shiro shook his head, turning his attention back to Keith.  “Sorry I’m late.  And how I wasn’t there for lunch again.  Things have been…crazy.”

“I heard you got confessed to.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose.  “Is that what everyone’s saying?  No, no, it’s not like that.  This morning, in the flight sim, a name popped up.  Something ridiculous like, “Shiro’s crush” or something like that -”

“-Takashiluvr17 -” Matt interjected through muffled laughter.

“Right.  That.”  Shiro grew bright red and itched the back of his head nervously.  “It was attached to some crazy high score.  Everyone thought it was a secret admirer or something.  Anyway, it’s probably just some glitch.  Sorry.  It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Keith blurted, realizing with a small gasp.  “It’s not a glitch.”

Shiro blinked at Keith’s intensity, tilting his head.  “No?  How do you know?”

“It’s me.  I did it.  Last night.  I - here…”  Keith fished through his pockets and grabbed Shiro’s flight sim pass.  “I’m sorry I took it.  I just…  I should’ve asked.  I didn’t even think of it as stealing really.  But I regret it.  Sorry.”

Shiro was frowning, staring at Keith’s outstretched hand holding the pass and then back up to Keith’s bright red face and averting eyes.  Slowly, he said, “…You’re….Takashiluvr17…?”

Keith spluttered.  “What?!  No!  I mean, yeah, that’s me, but no, I didn’t put that!  I swear to god, when I left, it didn’t say anything at all.  It was probably…”  He was going to blame it on a glitch, but then he registered Matt’s out of control laughter in the background and his blood began to boil.  

“You _little_ -!”

“Oh my god,” Matt wheezed.  “It was funny enough on its own, but then it took you that long to figure out!”

“How dare you!  After I opened up to you last night!  We were friends!”

“The dramatic betrayal!”  Matt cracked up, laughing so hard he was crying.  He held his sides in like he was writhing in mortal agony.

“Matt,” Shiro muttered softly like of course that was the answer to this fiasco.  “I’ve been stupid not to see this sooner.”

“Don’t worry.  Keith saw me changing the name and he still didn’t figure it out until now.”

“I was tired,” Keith grumbled.

Shiro chuckled fondly, smiling at the both of them with genuine warmth.  After a content moment, he said softly, “You beat my score.”

“Matt could’ve hacked into the system,” Keith said dryly.

“I definitely could have,” Matt agreed.

“No,” Shiro said softly, eyes only for him.  They crinkled at the corners as he smiled brightly.  “Our talk yesterday…  You…  You went out there for me.  …Thank you.”

“I-it’s kind of stupid…  I mean, you would’ve done the same for me,” Keith said, and he swore he didn’t even recognize his own voice.  The softness in it reflected the softness he was feeling inside of himself.  He didn’t quite understand it, but it felt comfortable to sit in.  Like a pocket in his life that he found to rest in where he felt no hatred, no bitterness.  He could smile with ease, regrets lifted from his heart.

“I can’t believe it,” Shiro chuckled airly.  “You’ve hardly practiced on that flight sim and already you’ve beaten my scores.  Imagine after you graduate, what you’ll be…”

Keith blushed madly.  “It was nothing.  Matt helped.”

“I helped Shiro too, and he still sucks.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, still angled toward Keith.  “You’re amazing.”  Then, his eyes grew teasing.  “And also the most envied person in the school right now.  They think you and me are dating.”

The air rushed out of Keith’s lungs as he froze inside.  

You and me.  Dating.  The words wrapped around his mind like a fog.

He blinked, realized his pause was too long and now veering into awkward territory.  He forced out an awkward laugh.  Couldn’t think of words.  What would he say to something like that?  All he could think of was the word _dating_ , which expanded in his mind and numbed the rest of his intelligence.

Oh, god, he was starting to sweat.

“If only everyone knew the way Matt worked,” Shiro dared lowly, but there was jest in his voice.  “I can’t believe you’d do that to Keith.  You know he’s my friend.”

“And that’s exactly why I did it,” Matt replied smugly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms behind his head.  “It was hilarious.  Wait until I tell Katie about this.”

“Your poor sister,” Shiro muttered.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Shiro shook his head, closing his eyes in mourning.  “She never had a chance.”

“Hey!  I will fight you!  Right here, right now!”

Shiro chuckled and Matt sprung, grabbing the papers from the desk and swatting Shiro with them like he was a fencer and Shiro was the target.

“Owwww,” Shiro was grumbling.  “I’m unarmed!  I’m unarmed!”

“Fight, you coward!”

“You’re the coward hitting an unarmed man!  Keith, help!”

“M-me?”  Keith blinked.  So far, he’d sat there, watching the two of them do what friends did best.  Keith had never joined.  He didn’t know how.  His face twisted uncomfortably.  “Oh, no.  I’m fine over here.  Seriously.”

“Cowardly swine!”  Matt cried and jumped over the desk, jabbing his makeshift sword right at Keith’s face.  

Keith jumped out of the way at the last second, unprepared and stumbling into Shiro.  They both toppled over the chair into a big pile of limbs.

“Oh, god,” Shiro was laughing.  “I’m so sorry.  You don’t deserve this, the awfulness of Matt.”

“He’s wonderful,” Keith said dryly, but he was laughing too as he tried to disentangle himself from Shiro.  “I’ve really been missing out.”

He realized, delayed, that he was basically sitting in Shiro’s lap.  Shiro was on his back, sprawled out in comfortable ease, looking back up at Keith with his bright eyes and easy smile.

Keith froze again, his heart behaving that…that way that it did sometimes.  That way he didn’t understand.  Adrenaline and fear of the unknown pulsed through him and he was stumbling up and away almost immediately, real fear grabbing him.

Only, Matt had been right there, tablet in hand, taking a picture.  Keith slammed into him, tried to recorrect the mistake, and then tripped on Shiro’s leg that he had moved to get up, and fell right back on top of him, sprawled out without grace.

Matt howled with laughter.  “Takashiluvr _for real_."  His camera was clicking like crazy.

“Matt”, Shiro choked, the sound of his voice muffled.

“I-I’m sorry,” Keith muttered, pushing himself out of Shiro’s chest.  “I swear to god I didn’t mean it.”

Right then, the door opened and footsteps came in.  They paused almost immediately.

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Oh, god,” Keith muttered under his breath, wondering if he could just run.

Iverson rolled his eyes.  “Come with me, Cadet.  If you’re done with…whatever the hell this is here.”

“I-I tripped.”

Iverson held his hand up.  “Don’t need to know.  Just follow me.”

“Sorry,” Keith whispered to Shiro again before pushing himself to full height and running after Iverson.

If he hadn’t been so flustered himself, he would’ve seen the red that swallowed Shiro’s face whole.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me on[ Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	6. Chapter 6

Keith sat down at his usual loner corner in the cafeteria, headphones stuffed into his ears in a sad attempt at keeping himself from looking for Shiro like one of his fangirls.  He was still convinced he wasn’t that bad yet, even though his dream last night starred Shiro in more intimate settings than was usual.

Not that he was unclothed or anything.

This was a different kind of intimate.  Almost more private, more secret to Keith.  They were talking without reservations.  Keith had all his walls down and could be free, be who he was without fear.  And Shiro - his eyes were so warm and soft, for real this time.  It made Keith’s heart ache just thinking about it.  He had longed for that easy connection for so long, grew to believe it was just something that happened in movies, not to him, never to him.  The feeling was…freedom.

It hadn’t been a vivid dream…or…premonition, whatever they were.  But whatever the dream was, Keith locked it gently away in the depths of his heart so he could look at it later, in secret, even from his “social” self.

He could pretend it didn’t exist when he was out in the open.  It was hidden well even from himself.

But then he had seen Shiro at the library by chance.  Keith had been skirting the edges, hiding from the crowds when he had spotted Shiro in one of the spots Keith usually found refuge in.  He was tucked away in the small private corner by himself, head down in a book, face soft and neutral, just him, just Shiro, and Keith felt like he couldn’t breathe for a few moments.  The Shiro beneath the mask was even more stunning than the one he usually wore.

It was as if Keith were suddenly seeing him everywhere around the Garrison.  In the hallways, across the outdoor pavillion, in the training room, through the windows while he was teaching.  Shiro had seen him that time and had lifted his hand in a wave mid-lesson, smiling.

That gravity Matt had mentioned, that _pull_ , it was everywhere, all around him.  Keith felt himself no longer wanting to fight it.

He jumped as his headphones were lifted from his head and the world came bombarding in, sharp as a knife.

“Whoa,” Shiro said, eyes wide and smile half-failing.  “You okay?”

Keith’s eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched.  He tried to unwind and found the task much like a puzzle.

Curtly, he nodded.  

Shiro couldn’t quite cover up the concerned smile on his lips.

Keith sighed, voice even softer.  “Yes.  Sorry.  Didn’t expect you.”

“Has it been that long?”  Shiro smiled crookedly, sliding his tray onto the table beside Keith and handing him a bag of veggie straws and his headphones back.  “I thought I’d be able to surprise you, but I didn’t think you’d go all ninja on me.”

“Pretty sure a ninja wouldn’t have fallen right out of their seat.”

A new voice joined their conversation, “Or let their headphones be stolen at all.”

“Hi, Matt,” Keith said dryly.

“Heya.  How’s Takashiluvr doing?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Keith said in the same tone.

“Okay, okay,” Shiro laughed, hands up in surrender.  “You know,” Shiro said to Keith, smiling proudly above his fork, “The fact he teases you is a good sign.  He only does that to his friends.”

“Say what?”  Matt choked on his drink.

Keith just watched with his eyebrows creased.  

“See what I mean?”  Shiro chuckled.  “He’s only that truthful to people he likes.”

“No, I’m not.”

Keith snorted, “Well, now he’s lying to you.  Does that mean you two aren’t friends, or…?”

Shiro crinkled his nose and laughed.  “Damn.”

Matt laughed too.  “Okay, now we’re getting a little too personal.  My unlockable tragic past is for myself _only_.  Let’s not.  Takashiluvr, please come with us to the arcade later on.  I’d bet you’d be good.  You can win me the gorilla prize.”

“Why can’t you just win it yourself?”

“He was banned ages ago,” Shiro said, looking wickedly amused.  “He was caught trying to hack his way into winning.  He has to wear a disguise now.”

“Did I hear the word ‘trying’?”  Keith smiled wryly.  

“Oooh ho.  Oh, no.  Oh, Shiro.  Did you hear what he said to me?”

Shiro smiled into his salad.  “I’m staying out of this one.”

“Do you question my mad hacking skills?”

Keith rolled out his shoulders slow and long.  “Well, I mean, if you can’t even hack into a game for kids, I dunno if that says anything good.”

“I challenge you to a fight to the death, Takashiluvr.”

“Call me that one more time.”  Keith prepared his fork, brandishing it as a weapon, pointing it toward Matt’s vulnerable nose.

Matt backed up, eyes narrowing to a point.  “Okay, okay, I get it.”  He waited a few tense moments and then said, lowly, “Takashiluvr.”

Keith leaned back and reached around Shiro easily, swatting Matt on the back of the head.  

“Ow!”  Matt wailed, leaping over Shiro for revenge.

“No, no, no,” Shiro said patiently, grabbing Matt by the collar and setting him back down.  All it took was one touch on Keith’s shoulder to get him back in his seat.

“Arcade.  You.  Me.  Sunset.”

“But -”

“Show up or I’ll change your name in the Garrison database from Keith to something far worse than Takashiluvr.”

“What could be worse?”  He paused.  “No offense, Shiro.”

“None taken.  I think the name Keith is good too.”

Matt was smiling smugly.  “Take your chances then.  It’s up to you. I’ve got to go though.  See you or not.  Sunset.”  He pointed his two fingers to his eyes and then jabbed one finger back at Keith before waving and leaving.

“He’s not serious, is he?”  Keith murmured to Shiro as he watched Matt’s back disappear around the door.

Shiro hummed, content.  “Some people are too smart for their own good.  Matt’s one of them.”

Keith sighed wearily.  “I’ve got to clean up the locker room after our session anyway.”

“I can help,” Shiro said easily.  “Then we could leave sooner.”

“You?”  Keith asked blankly.

“It’ll go double as quickly.  I don’t mind.  I’d really like you to come too.  I think it’d be fun.”

“F-fun?”  Keith’s mind was scrambled after he heard the words, _I’d really like you to come too_.  Was Shiro talking about the right person?  Keith resisted the urge to look behind himself to double-check.

Shiro tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he inspected Keith for the truth.  “Have you ever gone to the arcade before?”

“Mm.  I’ve…walked past one before?  I might’ve stepped in once or twice.”

“Never played?”

Keith shrugged.  

Shiro clapped his hands together.  “Then you have to come.  That’s final.  You’ll be a natural, I’m sure of it.  Think of an arcade as the flight simulator.  Only the stakes aren’t as high.”  Shiro winked.

“Oh…”  Keith said, in a daze.  He shook himself, then shook himself again when that did nothing.  “Um, that…sounds fun.  I’ll hurry with the lockers, but I can’t let you help this time.  Didn’t you get in trouble last time?”

“With who?  Iverson?  He looks scary, but really he’s soft, like a teddy bear.”

“I heard he expelled a group of cadets for chewing gum in the hallway.”

“Yeah, well, have you seen the amounts of gum underneath the dashboard in the flight sim?”

Keith shook his head.  

“Look next time and you’ll understand why gum is such a sin.  Don’t do it, by the way, even you won’t get let off for that one -”

“-But beating up five students is alright…?”

Shiro snorted.  “Anyway, you only have a little bit of detention left, right?  You’re basically done.  If we work together, we can have more time at the arcade.”

Keith shook his head again.  “I can’t -”

“-I’ll just have to wait for you even looongerrr,” Shiro sang.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll walk over when I’m done.”

“Nope.  No can do.  I’ve got to take you on my speeder.  How else will I be sure you won’t wander off into the desert and get lost again?  Then I’ll have to scour every inch of the desert for you, you know.  That’ll take a lot more time.”

Keith frowned, but he was finding it difficult to push the laughter down as he watched Shiro’s face, surprisingly serious despite their conversation.

“You can _watch_ ,” Keith relented, grudgingly.  “Keep me company.”

Shiro brightened.  “Okay!”

Keith finally let the built up smile break across his face.  “You look like a kid when you’re happy,” he laughed into his hand.

Shiro looked up at Keith, his smile twinkling even more at the sight, cheeks pink with blush.  They both chuckled together, breathless and happy.

The locker room was kept tidy and neat anyway, so there wasn’t much to do but the basics.  Shiro grabbed a bucket and a mop.  Keith had to steal them back from him and guide him over to the bench.  “Stay,” he said sternly before walking back to the sink where he got a rag to wash off the teacher’s window.  

“How are those hands doing?”  Shiro said, leaning on his mop.  He reached forward when Keith walked by, seeking his hands.

Keith startled at the movement, but his hand had a mind of its own and it reacted, meeting Shiro halfway.

Shiro grabbed onto his hand tenderly, turning it palm up.  Each finger moved with such precise tender care, a caress.  Each movement was sweet.  

“You have such nice hands,” Keith thought, but then he started again when he realized it was Shiro who had said it aloud.  

Shiro tensed immediately, face burning red.  “I - I…”  He cringed and then succumbed to it.  “Well, you do.”

Keith laughed awkwardly, trying to ease the nervousness away.  “Thanks.  You too.”

“Yeah?”  Shiro said, voice filled with a bit more excitement than was strictly necessary.  “Well, you too.”  He paused.  “I - I mean…  Well, you know that, since…since I just said it.”  

Keith snorted, and then laughter bubbled out of him.  

He could see the red in Shiro’s cheeks change in color as he watched Keith, face shifting from awkward exasperation to a fond gentleness.  His hands were still around Keith’s own.

“Hey,” Shiro said.

“Hm?”  Keith hummed happily around his laughter, smiling down at him.  

“Maybe nice hands is the secret to our high scores.”

Keith laughed again.  “Yeah,” he said, chest warm.  “Maybe.”

Footsteps cracked across the floor loudly, clipping around the corner.  They jumped, popped out of their bubble.

It was Anthony.  He was stalking in, eyes casting around shiftily.  When he spotted them, he froze.  

Something strange crossed his face.  It flitted between surprise and disgust, eyes widening the more he thought he comprehended.  His nostrils flared as he took in the sight of them.  With one haughty head-turn, he strolled back out, feet stomping loudly down the hallway until the door shut with finality.

Shiro still had his hands clasped around Keith’s.  Both were suddenly aware of how close together they had somehow become.  They were inches apart, in each other’s orbit.  In each other’s space.  They laughed nervously, breaking apart.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said immediately, backing away like a nervous dog.  “I didn’t mean to -  And now Anthony - he probably thinks…  I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I shouldn’t have.”

Shiro shrugged, feigning ease, but his cheeks were red as tomatoes.  He caught Keith’s wrist to steady his nervous shuffling, but then let go quickly, as if burned.  “It’s okay.  Really.  I was just looking at your hand.  We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I know, but now everyone will think…”  Keith heaved a heavy sigh.  “You don’t want to be associated with me.”

“I don’t?”  Shiro rose an eyebrow.

“No.  I’m bad news, haven’t you heard?”

“Hey, stop that.  Seriously.  If people say those things about you, it’s a reflection of themselves, not you.  Got that?  They don’t know you.  How could they possibly if they judge from a distance?   _I’ve_ had the pleasure of getting to know you these past few weeks and if they saw what I see in you, they’d be begging to be your friend.”

Keith snorted, smile slowly returning.  He shuffled his feet, embarrassed.  “Begging, huh?”

“On their knees, face pressed into the dirt.”

“Wow.  Am I, uh, going to be seeing any of that here?”  He grinned, expression turning wicked as he nodded to Shiro.

“Now, now, I thought we were already friends.  Aren’t we?”  

Keith didn’t miss the hopeful edge on the end of Shiro’s tone.  There was a wish in Shiro’s eyes too, silent, pleading.  

Keith said, lowly, an actual question he wondered, “Am I that bad of a friend that you don’t know we are?”

Shiro grinned brightly.  “Good.  Friends it is, then.”

“Good,” Keith said, ducking his head to hide his flustered face.  He wandered off to clean the windows.  “As much as I wish it would, this room isn’t going to clean itself.”

“Work.  Right.  Sorry.  I keep distracting you.  I should redeem myself by helping.”

“Very funny.  Not a chance.”

It was easy to stray from his duties with Shiro around.  Shiro was like the sun, pulling everything toward him.   _You’re in his orbit now_ , Matt had said, and how right he had been.  Keith didn’t even want to fight it.  He smiled softly as he cleaned.

Shiro loved mopping, which seemed weird, but he got a kick out of running around the locker room and scooting a mop around with him, Keith shouting after him, “Hey!  I told you not to help!”  Shiro just laughed as he ran.

In record time, the locker rooms were sparkling clean.  All they had to do was dump the dirty water.

“Even though you didn’t listen...thanks.  Really,” Keith said, watching Shiro lift the bucket with long careful arms.  “I honestly didn’t think we’d get done this quickly.”

“Of course,” Shiro said.  “…But hey, didn’t it seem like Anthony was…I don’t know…looking for something?”

Keith shrugged, crinkling his nose in distaste as he switched places with Shiro and rinsed his rag out in the sink.  “God, I hate him.  He could be looking for the cure to the common cold for all mankind and I still wouldn’t give it to him.”

Shiro rose a tired eyebrow.  “...Really, Keith?”

Keith shrugged carelessly.  “I literally could not care less about him.  I don’t know what’s on his mind and I probably never will.”

“I was just thinking…  Have you seen him during your detentions before?”

Keith stood straight, looking back at Shiro, whose face was open and honest with concern.  “I haven’t,” he said slowly, considering his words, “But he’s only just come back to school this week.  Mental health break, remember?”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighed, eyebrows tight in concern.  “If he gives you any trouble, you know you can come straight to me, right?”

“Sure,” Keith said gently.  “I can handle them myself, though.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that before.  Not that it didn’t work, but maybe we should try something else next time.”

“If there is a ‘next time’.”

Shiro agreed quickly, but Keith could see the way his forehead was clenching and he felt an echo of a tightness form in his own.  

“Do you think Iverson really checks the quality of your work here?”  Shiro hummed, buffing out a spot on the floor with the bottom of his shoe, waiting for Keith to tie up his hair.  

Keith nodded them out the door and they both walked toward the hangar.  “He does.  I missed a spot on a stall once - a tiny spot, hardly bigger than a freaking fly - and he pulled me out of class the next day to fix it.  He stood behind me and waited until he was sure it was gone.  You’d think he’d have better things to do.”

Shiro snorted, his mouth tugging up on both sides.  “At least the Garrison’s been looking really clean lately.  If piloting doesn’t work out for you, now you know you have other options.”

Keith heaved a long suffering sigh.  

“Almost done,” Shiro promised.

“But then we won’t have our meetings together either.”   _I’ll miss them_ is something that almost left Keith’s mouth, but he caught it at the last second and shoved it hastily back into his heart.  That would be too much for the both of them.

Surprise flickered across Shiro’s face, but then it was followed by a flooding of warmth and joy.  He rushed forward and reached his hand up, messing with Keith’s hair.  

“Hey!”  Keith squawked.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.  It just means we can do something fun together instead.  More time for the arcade.  There’s a pizza place near it too; I swear they make the best macaroni and cheese.”

“You and your orange slime,” Keith muttered.

Shiro gasped loudly, clasping his heart to his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.  “Don’t tell me you hate macaroni and cheese!”

Keith laughed softly.  “And if I said I did, then what?  You toss me to the dogs?  Let Anthony have me?”

“No, nothing that bad,” Shiro dragged himself morosely, looking quite close to crying.  “But I’d probably cry for three weeks straight.  I’d retreat to my room with boxes of macaroni and cheese and eat only that for each meal, slowly sinking deeper and deeper into my grime.”

Keith burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls.  

Shiro smiled.

“Well, then I’d better take this moment to tell you I don’t actually hate it, but if you’re going to a pizza place, why wouldn’t you order pizza?  That’s beyond me.”

“Pizza’s _alright_.”

Keith shook his head, deeply amused.

They had made their way to the hangar and Shiro led them to his speeder.  In comparison to the rest in the hangar, it was the sleekest, newest looking model, painted in a gorgeous candy apple red that almost had Keith drooling.

“Where’d you get this from, anyway?”  Keith wondered aloud, running his finger along its side.

“The Garrison,” Shiro hummed.

“They just _gave_ it to you?  Can I drive it?”

Shiro grinned as he got it ready.  “Sorry, not even you.  Iverson lectured me very sternly about not letting anyone else ride it before he even thought of handing over the keys.  He probably had to work a bit of his magic on the higher ups, but right after I graduated, I got the keys.  It’s mine.  Keep surprising everyone like you do and you’ll probably have one even sooner.”

Keith smiled, his canines showing.  “Say, when was the first time you got a flight sim pass?”

“The one you stole, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Come here,” Shiro said, tossing a leg over the speeder and patting the space behind him. “Here,” he said, holding out a helmet for Keith and then putting on one of his own.

“Two helmets now?”  Keith said, shoving it over his head.

“Well, we’ve got two heads together, don’t we?”

“Oh, so you can count now?”

“Har har, look at you, you’re funny.”

Keith settled into place, carefully scooting himself against Shiro’s back and wrapping his hands around his torso.  He wished he could say it was no big thing after last time, but it felt different this time.  The sun was shining through the sunlights of the hangar and he could see everything - down to the wrinkle in the back of Shiro’s shirt, to the curve of his shoulder blade where the shirt clung just right.  Keith swallowed and looked down.

“My flight sim pass,” Shiro hummed, starting the bike and carefully pulling out of their spot.  “Let’s see.  I got it…probably my third year?”

Keith hummed, placing a hand on Shiro’s shoulder to stabilize himself as he fished for a card in his pocket.

“Hey, hold on to me,” Shiro complained.  “We’re not going that fast, but you could get hurt if you fall.”

“Yeah, yeah, look at this,” he said, leaning forward and shoving his arm out in front of Shiro’s face.

Shiro opened his mouth to complain - probably about safety again - when he stopped and laughed incredulously.  “What is _that_?  Your own flight sim card?”

Keith shoved it back into his pocket, a smug smile on his lips.  He grabbed back onto Shiro’s waist.  “When Iverson called me in the other day, I thought he was going to grill me.  But he said he ‘doesn’t want my talent to be wasted’ or something like that.  I can practice whenever it’s open.  Maybe we can co-pilot sometime.”

“ _Keith_.  Definitely,” Shiro said excitedly.  “I can’t wait.  Wow, Keith.  I’m so impressed by you.  At this rate, you’re going to be the most decorated pilot the Garrison’s ever seen really soon.  Really soon.”  His words softened at the end, tone going gently thoughtful.

“…Does that bother you?”  Keith asked honestly.  He leaned his chin on Shiro’s shoulder hesitantly, convincing himself it was the only way he could get close enough to spot out Shiro’s emotions.

“Bother me?  No, of course not.  I love it, Keith.  I’m happy.  You deserve it, you’re so talented, and it’s time you’re recognized for it.  You’re amazing.”

“Okay, now you’re laying it on a little too thickly,” Keith chuckled, but he smiled fondly, that fluttering warmth returning in his chest.

Afternoon was drifting into evening and the open air outside was cooling quickly.  It was nice.  A breath of fresh air enough to waken up the senses.  Not too cold to be uncomfortable, but enough to enjoy the warmth right beside you.  

Shiro didn’t seem to mind the close contact, so Keith kept his cheek pressed against his shoulder as he looked at the sky.  It was always bigger in reality than how he remembered it, even knowing that fact.  

“I mean it, you know,” Shiro said.  “I have a feeling you haven’t been told enough.”

Keith hummed, meaning for it to be neutral, but it came out as a bit of a disgruntled gurgle.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro chuckled, patting Keith’s arm with his hand.  “I won’t pry.  But I mean it.  I do.  You’re going to do great things.”

“You too, Shiro,” Keith said softly.  “…Thanks.”

Keith couldn’t see, but he could feel Shiro smile.  His radiance magnified and spread through the atmosphere, as vibrant as a star’s.  

He closed his eyes.  Let himself absorb the moment.  This was all too good to be true, he had to be having a dream.  Since his father had gone, Keith’s life had been cold and everything felt brittle and callous to the touch.  This warmth in his chest, the comfort in his hands, he had forgotten that it existed.  He was scared to let himself remember.

One person couldn’t possibly be this kind.  And even if they were, how could they possibly find interest in someone like Keith?  Keith was plain and angry and…and all those people who looked at him like a monster...  They all saw what Shiro would soon.  

If this wasn’t just a joke already.  A small withered part of Keith tried to whisper, “he’s setting you up for something awful.  Going to make a fool out of you,” but even he couldn’t believe it anymore.  Whatever intentions Shiro had, they were good.  But Keith knew he’d mess it up somehow.  It was just a matter of time.

That’s why he’d enjoy it now.  His chest flush against Shiro’s back.  His head pressed gently to his shoulder blade.  It was a dream come true.  Cinderella at her ball before her carriage turned back into a pumpkin.  But the carriage and ball sure were beautiful while they were there.

“Still with me?”  Shiro murmured quietly, teasing in his tone.

“Mm?”  Keith blinked groggily, pulling himself up.  They were there, parked along a street where a long string of mom and pop shops were sparkling charmingly.  “I wasn’t sleeping,” Keith denied, rubbing his eyes and running a hand over his face.

“Uh-huh.  Want to get dinner first?  You never seem to eat much for lunch.”

Keith groaned.  

“ _Fine._  We won’t get macaroni and cheese.  We’ll get pizza.  Or is there anything you like better?”

Is this…what friends did?  Keith thought it over carefully.  He’d never had a friend.  He cast his eyes around the streets, trying to spy a group of friends for any sign of what was right.  If he saw two guys having dinner together, would that seem strange?  

Was this like a date?

His stomach growled and he forgot why it seemed like a big deal.

Shiro had been watching his face carefully and was apparently getting better at reading him.  Before Keith even answered, Shiro said happily, “Let’s go over there to Paul’s Pizza.  If you don’t like their pizza, then you’re out of luck.”

“For not being able to cook yourself, you are surprisingly stingy about your food,” Keith murmured, allowing himself to be pulled along by the arm.  

“You live here long enough, you get bored of your choices.  Wait awhile.”

Keith figured he didn’t need to tell him that living at the orphanage and surviving off of whatever scraps they gave him made him immune to food preference.  His taste buds were probably destroyed.  He despised everything by now.

“Oh!  It’s not too busy!”  Shiro grinned happily, sliding his hand from Keith’s wrist to his hand.  

“GUYS!”  Someone shouted from across the street just as Shiro moved to open the door.  Shiro paused, frowning.  

“I’ve been waiting for ages,” Matt groaned, jogging up to them.  “Some people were giving me the evil eye over there.  I think I witnessed a drug deal!  Please don’t tell me you’re trying to eat here.  I didn’t wait all that time to not get the gorilla for Katie after all.  I could’ve died.  Died.”

“Where’s the fake mustache?”  Shiro pursed his lips in an attempt to hide a smile.

“I thought the shades did it well enough.  What do you think?”  He posed seductively, rolling his shoulders and jutting out his hips.

Keith frowned.

Shiro snorted and rolled his eyes.  “Your weird hair style is a dead give-away.  Don't you have a hat you always carry with you?  You need one.  Or two.”

“Hey! At least my hair’s not like this one’s right here,” Matt grunted, gesturing to Keith as he dug through his pockets.

Keith blinked, affronted.  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It looks weird short.  You need to grow it out or something.  I’m telling you, it’ll look great.”

“It’s the Garrison’s rules.  It’s not my fault I have to follow them,” Keith muttered defensively.  

“Just let it start growing, what’s Iverson going to do?  Kick you out?” Matt laughed at the idea.  

Shiro shrugged, reaching out to feel a strand between his fingers, “why bother?  I like it how it is.”

Matt flicked an exasperated look in Shiro’s direction.  “Of course you do.  I didn’t ask.”

Keith watched Shiro, narrowing his eyes at Matt, and he felt like he missed something.  He frowned.  “I like my hair too.  Leave it alone.”

“Oh, god,” Matt groaned.  “Already working as a unit.  This is all happening so fast.  Soon my little baby boy is going to be all grown up and getting married, buying a house, having kids, growing old together -”

“-Shut up,” Shiro grunted out, jumping forward to slam a hand over his mouth.

“Is it even a secret?”  Matt squawked beneath Shiro’s weight, struggling for air.

“I said stop!”

They wrestled on the sidewalk for awhile as Keith stood there, sighing, waiting for them to finish.  He was starting to get used to their behavior and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel.  Too familiar.  A little anxious.

It was too picturesque.  Too much like a movie.  That was the thing about movies - they were fiction.  

Of course, Shiro would notice.  Right away, he popped up and asked, friendly concern on his brow, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith said softly, rubbing his arm and finding interest in the hanging lights.  They were stars.  Typical.

“Let’s get something to eat.  Matt’s uninvited.”

Matt heaved himself up, balancing his weight on a nearby pole.  “Have your little dinner date some other time without me trailing behind as some pathetic third wheel.  There’s pizza at the arcade.”

“It is getting late,” Keith hummed, looking up at the orange sky.  “I don’t mind the arcade pizza.”

“You sure?”  Shiro said, always worried, always caring.

Keith shrugged.  “Sure.  And besides, you still need to see me beat the crap out of Matt’s scores.”

Matt hooted, punching the air.  “That’s what I’m talking about!  Wait until you see Katie’s face.  She loves gorillas.”

Shiro grinned, eyes warmly on Keith.  “Another one of your talents?”

Keith laughed.  “I’ve never tried it before honestly.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Shiro nodded, probably thinking to the flight sim.  Then he frowned, “Also, does Katie really like gorillas?”

“Of course she does,” Matt said.  “Who doesn’t like gorillas?”

“I don’t like gorillas,” Keith murmured, picking lint off his jacket.

“Oh,” Matt groaned dramatically.  “Mr. Contrary over here.  No worries.  All you have to do is win it.”

They walked across the street, piling into the arcade.  

It was noisy and surprisingly busy for a school night.  Keith hadn’t realized that so many people left the Garrison at nights.  

Matt noticed his look.  “They’re all rich kids,” he explained.  

“You?”  Keith asked.

Matt bobbed his head in a half-assed nod that was almost more of a shrug, wrinkling his nose like he was embarrassed.

Keith turned to Shiro.  “You?”

“Not really, no.”

Matt corrected, “rich in luck.  Rich in teacher’s love.”

“Okay, I can agree to that,” Shiro said, not even bothering to hide the grin.

“So I will provide the money this time,” Matt said, emptying his pockets out into Keith’s hands.  “And you will provide the skill.  Shiro’s basically useless on these things.  God knows why; he’s been gifted with everything else.”

Shiro elbowed Matt.

Matt elbowed him back and then pointed up at the wall, where a large ugly stuffed gorilla hung.  “That is the prize.  700 tickets.”

“We should’ve come here earlier,” Shiro yawned, crossing his arms tightly.  

“We’ve got all night, old man.  You should’ve seen how hard Takashiluvr worked for you on the flight sim.  This is nothing.”

Keith was already ignoring them, his eyes scanning over all the games.  He’d always wanted to come into an arcade.  He’d seen the other orphans go in occasionally, the ones who had been lent money or were being tested out by their prospective parents.  It was a place he had only seen from outside, never in.  He’d never expected to enter one.  And here he was, the flashing of the lights, the loud ringing of the music and people locked onto their games.  With friends.

There was that anxiousness in his gut again.  He bit his lip and tried to force it away.

“I’ll get pizza,” Shiro hummed, turning to Keith.  “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Uh…”  

“I’ll get pepperoni.  Maybe with sausages.  Do you like sausage?  It was always a special treat in my family.”  

“God, Shiro,” Matt complained.  “Anything’s fine.  Let my cash cow focus.”

Shiro tsked and shook his head, but walked off.

Matt walked backward, leading Keith. He jerked his thumb over to a big blue one with anime characters painted on the side.  “Might I recommend this one to start off with? Even Shiro can somewhat handle it.”

“You’re no good at them?”  Keith asked, walking up to it and frowning at the instructions rolling down the flashing screen.

“Better than Shiro, but he tells me my talent lies in breaking things, not playing by its rules.”

Keith smiled, slipping a few coins into the machine.  His stomach was becoming twisted in knots.  If Shiro was his first friend, that made Matt a close second.  Keith didn’t necessarily like Matt as much as Shiro, but he didn’t _dislike_ him, and that meant a lot.  Keith disliked most everyone.

He didn’t want to fail him.  He wanted to maintain his image before everyone realized what a fake he was.  He wanted to be useful and worth something to Matt.

But he wouldn’t be able to prove anything if he just stood there though.  Licking his lips nervously, he fit his hands around the controls and began.  

It was a simple enough game - swing the little guy left to right and make sure not to take any hits or let anything get past, but he didn’t last long.  Matt’s face pinched in a grimace as Keith’s character fell.

Matt said, “Looks like being a prodigy pilot does go hand-in-hand at sucking at the arcade.  You wouldn’t think.”

“Wait.  I’ve got this.”  Keith growled and shoved a few more coins in and tried again.

He really put his all into it, but he got the same result.  

Keith huffed, discontent.  He did not like to fail.  

Big fat red words flashed across the screen, a taunting reminder, “YOU LOSE”.

“Well, I’ll be darned,” Shiro said from behind him, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at the screen.  He was so close that Keith could feel the heat radiating from his chest.

Keith cast his eyes up to look at his expression - a smile on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes.  No hatred yet.  No judgement.  “Looks like there are some things you can’t do.”

Keith huffed again, sharper this time.  “ _I can do it_.  This is just my first time.”

Shiro’s smile grew.  “Here.  Let me help.  I’m not that great, but maybe it’ll spark some ideas.  Matt, hold the pizza.”

“I’m going to eat it if I hold it.”

“Eat it and no gorilla for you.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be getting a gorilla either way with the two of you.”

Shiro shushed him, and leaned back over Keith.  “Here,” he hummed softly, stepping a bit closer so that they were almost touching.  He leaned over, arms going around Keith.  His hands fit over Keith’s hands, gentle and firm.  “I’ll show you.  Start it…now.”

Keith grit his teeth down hard and held on for dear life.  He was frozen to the spot, trapped where he was, unable to breathe.  Shiro was moving Keith’s hands with his hands - their fingers interlocked, nudging Keith’s body forward with his own - front pressed against Keith’s back, seemingly unaffected.  

Shiro was so close…  If Keith were to breathe in his scent, he didn’t even know what would happen.  He held his breath desperately. What was wrong with him?  He had more control than this.  He wasn’t like the others.  He wasn’t silly like them.  He chose to be strong.  He chose to be alone.  He - He just needed to -

Shiro’s voice broke through Keith’s inner panic.  “Like that.  See?”

“Uhhh…  Um…”

Matt snorted somewhere in the distance.

“You okay?”  Shiro asked.  “Maybe you need to eat first.  You can stand back and watch me mess everything up.  Don’t let my mistakes be your mistakes.”  He winked.  That damn wink.

Shiro let Keith’s hands go and Keith stumbled away, dizzied and confused.  He slid into his place beside Matt, who wordlessly offered him the plate of pizza, one amused knowing eyebrow raised.

“It’s more of a flick of a wrist than a jerk,” Shiro said, eyes zeroing in on the screen.  For how bad he was, he gave it his all, leaning into the screen, eyes bright.  “I noticed you were a little stiff.”

Matt was still smiling knowingly, watching Keith mutely trying to shove the pizza into his stomach.  His throat was still dry.  His mind was still boggled.  

“You knoooow,” Matt murmured softly so Shiro, who was still trying to deliver helpful tips, couldn’t hear.  “Shiro really likes you.  Like…really likes you.”

Keith’s face blared red.  His heart was pounding so loudly he thought he might turn into a puddle right then and there.  “I - I - I -”

“And you’re almost as obvious as he is…”

“I?”

Matt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sighing.  “Well, whatever.  But if you were to say anything, he wouldn’t deny you, you know.  Just food for thought.”

Shiro turned, face glowing, posture victorious.  His measly score didn’t even make the top 100.  “Yeah?  Helpful?”

Keith choked and nodded quickly.  “Yep.  You were great.  Really great.”

Shiro beamed.  “Thanks.”

“I need to…get some water…”  Keith said faintly before running.

There was a little fountain down the hallway near the bathrooms that Keith had spotted earlier.  He bypassed it and went to the telephone booths instead, scooting into the corner, out of sight, and sitting.

His face still felt bright red.  It was hot and uncomfortable to the touch.  His whole being felt uncomfortable.  

This wasn’t him.  Fawning over some guy like…like one of those people.  The people he despised, always clinging to Shiro like he was some toy.  Keith didn’t want to be like that, but the tug was there.  The stupidity he always thought was just a choice, a tool that people used to flirt their way into getting what they wanted, it was infecting him like a drug.  His mind was cloudy around Shiro.  His body fought him to act on its own, to move toward Shiro, not away.  It scared him.

His mind had always been his.  

With a shaky hand, he ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to focus.  

What Matt said had thrown him even harder.  

But Matt’s wiggling eyebrows.  The sly side-glances.  Everything being too good to be true…  Keith squirmed inside.

Maybe this was a dream, like the others, so real he couldn’t separate it from reality.  Even thinking that, he couldn’t solidify his defenses anymore.  That pull from Shiro was there in his heart; it was there to stay.  

Keith’s heart fluttered, this time, in fear.

“Did you see that?”  Keith heard a group of girls walking down the hallway, muttering lowly under their breaths.  

“That was Shiro.  He was with some boy and they were like, _grinding_ against each other.”

“No, no, no.  It can’t be true.  You don’t think they’re… _you know_ …”

“No,” her friend said indignantly.  “No way.  You were just seeing things.  Shiro’s not _gay_ .  Not _our_ Shiro.”

“I’m telling you!  They were close!  Shiro was leaning into him over his shoulder!  He had his hands over that boy’s!”

“Who even was that kid?  …He was pretty.  How could we compete with that?”

“Well, if Shiro _was_ gay, we wouldn’t be able to compete _anyway_ as we’re _girls_.  Duh.  And, if it came to that, why would we even want to?”

“Wasn’t he that one who almost killed Anthony?”

“ _Ohhhh_.  The prodigy.  I heard a rumor he’s the one who beat Shiro’s score.  So that’s why Shiro’s hanging around him.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Yeah, Iverson ordered it.”

A collective laugh of relief.  “Oh my god, false alarm.  I was so scared there for a second.  What if Shiro really was... _you know_ ?  That would’ve crushed me.  Looking up to him all these years to find out something like _that_.”

Keith breathed out deeply through his nose.

That’s right.  Someone like Shiro, so perfect and untouchable, couldn’t possibly be tainted by something like this, someone like him.  It didn't matter what Keith thought, if the population would be sickened by this, it'd hurt Shiro.  Keith couldn’t let that happen to Shiro after all he’d done for him.

Shiro was goodness itself.

What was Keith thinking?  

Shakily, he pulled himself to his feet and walked back to the arcade room.

Shiro and Matt were leaning against the wall, chatting animatedly to each other.  When Shiro caught sight of Keith, he brightened, waving.

“You were awhile, are you alright?”

“You always ask that,” Keith said tiredly, scratching his forehead.  “I’m fine.  Just upset at this stupid game.”  He got back into position.

Shiro laughed.  “Matt won’t die without that gorilla -”

“-Says you -”

“- But try a different one.  There are plenty.”

Grumpily, Keith cast his eyes around for a game that spoke to him.  There.  Ninja Monsoon.  He stepped up onto the platform and channeled his bad mood into playing.  

He wasn’t necessarily trying, but his mind was in a strange in-between of focus and restlessness.

Before he knew it, the bell chirped merrily with the sound of a win.

Matt grinned widely, smile flashing.  “I knew it.  I knew that gorilla would be as good as mine.”

“Hey,” someone said behind them.  According to his name tag, he was Ted, the store manager.  “Don’t I recognize you?”

Matt rose his eyebrows.  “Me?  With the hat?”

Ted’s eyes narrowed.  His following frown was not friendly.  He said gruffly, “Should’a brought two hats.”

“Aw, rats.  Okay, hear me out.  My little sister -”

“-Stop-”

“-she really misses me, see.  I don’t have time to visit her so much anymore.  So I thought maybe if I came here and got her this gift, the fair way, it’d help soothe her worries.”

Ted’s face was unchanged, unimpressed.  He deadpanned, “leave.”

“She’s young and lonely!  She’s got no friends!”

“Should’ve thought about that before you ruined several of my games.”

“I can fix them,” Matt perked up.

“Leave.  And never come back, I’m telling you.  I’ll call the police next time.  You’re from the Garrison, aren’t you?  They don’t take lightly to this sort of shenanigans.”

“I wasn’t doing anything this time!  I didn’t even play!”

“Matt, come on,” Shiro said lowly, grabbing him by the shoulders and wheeling him around.  He nodded out the door to Keith.

“This is ridiculous,” Matt grumbled.  “I only hacked into a few of them…”

Shiro was shaking his head tiredly, that ever-patient smile somehow still on his lips.  Keith watched it, the gentleness that was always a part of him, and somehow always seemed to be like seeing it again for the very first time. He’d probably never get tired of it.

“Okay, that was a mess,” Shiro laughed as he handed Keith his helmet. “But I had fun.  Did you?”  

Keith laughed softly, positioning himself behind Shiro.  “I think once I get that gorilla I’ll have fun.”  

Shiro snorted.  He started up the bike and away they went, leaving the twinkling shop lights in the distance as they headed down the dark and lonely road to the Garrison.  The desert could be so dark at night, like nothing else existed.

“It’s not so much about the end result, but the journey.  The gorilla will be nice, but hanging out at the arcade is what you’ll remember.  I have a lot of good memories there.”

“Sure,” Keith sighed, his one track mind not that patient, not that at ease to think that logically.  

His mind was still buzzing restlessly, thinking about what those girl’s said.  He was getting too comfortable around Shiro.  It wasn’t like he really knew much about him in the first place besides the fact that he was easy to talk to and the sweetest person Keith might’ve ever met.  

He’d heard of the kind of people who would fall in love with anyone who showed him a bit of kindness, not for the person they were, but because they were needy and desperate.  Keith didn’t want to be that person.  He was afraid, being how he was, he couldn’t just love a person for who they were.  Shiro deserved someone better than that.

But the question bubbled up and out of him anyway.  Before he could stop it, he was asking it, “Hey, Shiro?  Have you ever dated anyone before?”

Shiro made a little noise of surprise in the back of his throat and he straightened his back a bit more against Keith’s chest.  “Uh.  Why do you ask?”

“You’re always around people.  You know them.  I just thought it was weird how all the girls that fawn all over you never actually ask.”

“Oh,” Shiro said and Keith could basically hear the blush bleeding into his tone.  “They do ask.  I’ve dated a few times, but it was nothing serious.  They all just sort of...”

Keith got it.  He could feel it in his own gut, the first mistake he’d make if that were him.  “Hold you up on a pedestal?”

“Yeah,” Shiro admitted reluctantly.  “It’s never as fun when they get to know that I’m a real person.  It’s nothing I haven’t already whined about before.  It’s the same thing as the scores.  People are happy with you only as long as you give them what they want.”

“Sometimes not even then,” Keith hummed.

“Yeah...”

They let out a collective sigh.

“Shiro-“

“-Hey, Keith?”

They had spoken at the same time and then laughed at their mistake the same time too.

“Go ahead,” Shiro said.

Keith looked up, hearing something different in Shiro’s tone.  A brightness to it, a bit of unsteadiness.  “...No, um, you go.”

“I....”

Shiro’s thought hung in between them in the cold air.  Keith waited.  He was good at waiting in times like this, but nothing ever came.  Keith saw the moment when Shiro gave it up, his shoulders sagging infinitesimally and that little sigh that left his chest was a bit heart wrenching.

They pulled into the hangar which was mostly dead at this time.  Keith popped his helmet off and watched Shiro messing with the controls on the dashboard.  

“Hey,” Shiro said, not looking at Keith, attention still fixed on his speeder which had gone silent. He was rubbing his finger against the side in listless circles.  “Maybe tomorrow we can go again?  Maybe get an earlier start and head over to Paul’s Pizza?  It’s good to get away from the Garrison every once in awhile.”

“Mm, sounds nice, but I can’t.  I’ve got a test to study for.”

“O-oh, right.  Yeah...  I’ve got a lesson plan I should be writing up.”

Keith smiled crookedly.  “Maybe some other night though.  Matt’s sister needs that gorilla, after all.”  

Shiro laughed, but it was forced in a way he never usually did.  When he turned around, his cheeks were already flushed red and he stared at the ground by Keith’s feet and not at his face.  That confidence he always held within and outside himself was squirming and small.  

“Have you?”  He forced out quickly and the sound bounced through the empty hangar, making him wince.  “I mean...your question.  You asked.  Have you ever....dated...?”  His voice faded the more he spoke.

Keith blinked, watching him squirm in confusion.  “No.  No, I’ve never been good with people.”  He realized it should probably be embarrassing.  He had heard of kids in the orphanage losing their virginities when they were basically thirteen, and here Keith was, never even having his first hug in his later teens.  But that’s just how it was.  Keith had never been able to trust anyone.  They’d never given him a reason to.

But Shiro was smiling, relief on his face and no judgment, like Keith had feared.

“Cool,” he said.

Keith huffed a laugh.  “It is?”

“Yeah, I...  I mean.  No.  I...  I’ve made it weird, haven’t I?”

Keith shrugged, but he was laughing still, harder.  

Shiro smiled crookedly, watching Keith with a gooey fondness in his eyes.  His voice dipped low.  “Um...  Keith...”

“Hmmm?”  He hummed, content.

“I...”  He was wringing his hands and pressing his lips together tightly.  And there he went again, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I,” he said, his voice so soft that Keith had to lean forward.  They were close again.  Body heat mixing into body heating, defenses down, just Keith and Shiro.

“What is it?”  Keith asked gently.

“I think that, um…” Shiro said.  

A surprise clang made them both jerk, turning around.  

It was Matt, box in his hand.  “Ow,” he cursed, looking at his feet.  “Who left a damn wrench here?  What are we?  Animals?”  He looked up.  “Oh, hey, Shiro.  Takashiluvr.”

“Hey, Matt...”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What are you two still doing here?  I went to get some cupcakes at the bakery down there and the line was horrendous.  I thought you’d both be long gone by now.  You guys want some?”

“Uh, maybe in a bit,” Shiro said, frown on his face.  

Keith sniffed, turning to look at Shiro.  Whatever was going to be said was gone, burst in an explosion of frustration.  

Shiro’s frown held.

Keith laughed softly, so fond.  “I’ve got to go.  It’s late.  I still have class tomorrow.”

“O-oh,” Shiro murmured, a flicker of disappointment slashing through his expression before he bravely put on a smiling face.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah.  Thanks, Shiro.  See you.”  He passed by Matt, “Bye, asshole.”

Matt choked.  “I am your superior officer.”

“Mmm, I thought it was your thing to call people by names they didn’t like?”

Matt groaned dramatically.  “I was going to save you a cupcake, but now I’m eating it.  Eating it!”

“Bye,” Keith waved, trotting off.  

“It’ll be all gone!”  Matt was still yelling behind him.

He had survived his first social outing.  And it hadn’t even been that bad.  He was emotionally drained, but there was happiness beneath that and he felt a warm content buzz throughout his body when he finally made it out of the showers and into his bed that night.

“You look happy,” his roommate acknowledged.  

He was already halfway into dreams and the best he could do was hum.

 

In the morning, things were better and worse.  Better because his mind was refreshed and clear.  He felt a bit stronger, like he had earned some critical experience points hanging out with Shiro and Matt and now he was one step closer to communicating like an actual human being.

Worse because the dread that had been blooming in him last night had made roots in his chest.  He got a whoosh of anxiety whenever he thought of Shiro which was, as it turned out, becoming exceedingly more common.  

And his mood plummeted.  Those girls were right.  Of course they were right.  Shiro needed someone by his side who was as perfect as he was.  Keith was a little bit of soot on the bottom of a shoe that wasn’t even supposed to be there.  He’d mar Shiro’s name.

He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it in the first place.  When had he started liking Shiro?  It was like his damn hormones were in control.  They said this would happen in sex ed and he didn’t believe them.  And now look.

That was not him, that was not him, that was not him.  He closed his eyes and repeated the mantra to himself.  He would gain control again.

In the hallways, it was colder than usual.  People’s eyes would slip over to him and then narrow, snake-like and harsh.  At first, he tried to tell himself it was just his imagination.  He was being paranoid.  It wasn’t any worse than any other day, sure.

But no.  A girl walked past and “accidentally” shoved him with her shoulder and he tumbled, not prepared for it.  A soft amused titter ran through the hall.  It was the first week all over again.

People must’ve heard the rumors about him and Shiro.  People must’ve felt threatened.

In between classes, he kept his head down and his grip to his bag tight.  In class, he focused on the page in front of him, trying to ignore the prickle at the back of his neck and the heat flooding his chest, telling him to run.  He had thought he was over this.

By lunch, he was tired again in a way he had forgotten recently.  He felt the weight of everyone’s judgment on him, pressing him down and squeezing the air from his lungs.

After he waited in line for lunch and finally made it to the front counter, three different people stepped deliberately in front of him and pushed him back.

He was too damn tired to fight.

When Keith finally walked over to the table with a bowl of slop in his hand, Shiro’s Keith senses tingled immediately, and he perked up, at attention.  “...You alright?”  His voice was even softer than usual as he leaned forward, ready to help.  “Are you sick?”

Keith shook his head, keeping his eyes down.  Part of him had been waiting for Shiro, clinging to his gentle voice like a life vest.  Another part shrunk from him, wanting to just isolate and drown himself.

A small hand slid a cupcake into Keith’s view.  It was the fanciest cupcake Keith had ever seen, crafted to a swirling peak carefully and topped with a decorative edible bow.  

Keith looked up.  Matt was standing across the table from them, smiling, with a rare bit of concern on his face.  “Okay, something’s troubling you.  Want to talk about it?  Shiro and I are here for you, you know.  And I know I said I'd eat the cupcake, but I mean, I got it for you, so...have it.”

Friends.  He'd never had friends.

Something powerful and harsh surged up in Keith.  It tasted bitter and he felt it spreading through him like a poison, burning him from the inside out.  If he felt wounded and weary before, it was nothing compared to the feeling he had now, swallowing him whole, dragging him under.  He couldn’t breathe.  

It must’ve shown on his face.

Shiro and Matt both straightened, faces growing alarmed.  They said something, he didn’t know what.  He ignored it.  

He didn’t deserve them.  He was a _bad person_ , why couldn’t they see?  They believed in him so much, he had almost believed it himself, but those girls had been right: he had no place beside Shiro or even Matt.

He didn’t know how to handle their kindness, so misplaced.  It hurt.  It hurt so damn much.  it didn’t make sense.

The backs of his eyes burned.  Pushing himself from the table roughly, he stood.  And ran.


	7. Chapter 7

 

He had hid himself in the bathroom during lunch.  No one came to bother him.

His mentoring session with Shiro was another story.  He couldn’t hide from Shiro when they were only one table-width apart, but it turned out he didn’t need to.  Shiro helped in the best way he could - by giving Keith some space.  He didn’t pry when Keith came in to sit down.  He smiled quietly and got out a book and his reading glasses, investing himself in it for most of the hour.  

Keith busied himself with studying, content to do that for awhile, the edge of his mood softened by Shiro’s presence.  When he was halfway through, he looked up at the clock and realized they were almost finished.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.  Shiro didn’t deserve this.  He deserved better.  “It’s not your fault,” Keith muttered lowly.

Shiro looked over his glasses at Keith.  “Hm?”

“Today.  It’s just.  People.  Not you.  Not Matt.  I just…wanted you to know that.”

The answering smile was gentle.  “Thank you.  Matt and I want you to know that we’re both here for you if you want to talk.  You’re one of us now.”

Keith looked up, his stomach halfway between flipping and dropping.  He whispered, “thank you.”

“And if you need me to talk to anyone, I won’t tell them you said anything.  I’ll go over there right now.”

Keith put on a smile, though it was a little wobbly.  “Thanks…”  

“Of course...”  Shiro said, his smile fading from his face and his eyes.  He looked sad as he watched Keith, like Keith’s pain was hurting him too.  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you…”

Keith nodded, reaching down for his bag and shoving his homework in.  “I will.  It’s fine.  Really.”

“It’s not,” Shiro nudged gently.  “I really mean it.  I hope you feel better.  Want me to help with your -”

Keith shook his head.  He already knew he’d ask that.  “My detention days are almost over.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“…’Kay.”

Shiro didn’t look any happier as Keith left.  Keith sighed, tugging on his collar, trying to get some air.  Everything felt so suffocating.  

When he scrubbed the hallway floors, he scrubbed them with all his might.  He attacked them, throwing his arms into it, his torso, his dang little toes.  He tried to channel all of his frustration out into it.  He wanted to scream.

As he focused his attention on one stubborn spot in particular, a loud smack interrupted him.  He turned to see the bucket of soapy water overturned, spilling out into the hallway.  Footsteps echoed through the hallways as someone ran away.

“Coward,” Keith muttered lowly, but he didn’t feel anything.  No rage, no anger, not even disappointment.  He’d already come to expect that sort of behavior.

That night, he ended the day with that special sort of exhaustion that just melted away at his bones and deep into his core.  He slept badly.  

In his dreams, he was strapped to a table, these things, these creatures looming over him, inspecting him like he was some sort of test subject, not a person.

He was thrown into this dream world a stranger, right in the midst of it, disorientated and spinning.  The binds keeping him still were biting into his skin roughly; he struggled to no avail.  Those standing over him took no notice of the desperation bleeding from him or of the pleas stumbling from his mouth.

“Please,” Keith could hear himself saying.  “You don’t have to do this.”

He fought and fought and fought, thrashing with all his might, but he was ironed down.  It was impossible.

The pain from the binds alone was overwhelming him.  Fighting made it worse, but he couldn’t sit still to succumb to this.  He had to run.  The metallic smell of medical supplies and strange unknown serum was all around him, pressing into his nose.

One of them reached up, hand guiding an attachment toward Keith.  A saw was on the end.

“No,” Keith breathed.  “Stop.”  

The saw screeched to life, spinning in a blur of razor-fast movement.  It roared angrily as it approached.

It was Keith’s worst nightmare.  All he could do was watch as the spinning blade neared him.  They drew it over to his arm, defenseless and vulnerable, the open space between his arm and the saw growing only smaller until there was no space left.

They pressed it down against his flesh.  Blood flung everywhere, coating his vision in red.  Not that it registered.

His scream was inhumane.  Guttural.

The only thing he could do was endure...until he couldn’t.

The last thing he did before unconsciousness swooped in and claimed him was call out a name like a plea.  Weakly, voice cracked and sobbing with desperation, he whispered, “Keith…   _Keith_.”

And he surfaced, waking from his nightmare.

Keith rolled onto his side and threw up, clinging to his arm like it was a gaping wound.

“God,” he wheezed.  It hurt so fucking much he didn’t think he could take it.  It completely blinded him.  His nails dug into his arm as he tried to claw it all away.  It was choking him.  He was overcome.

He was crying.  Loud ragged sobs that ripped from his lungs, out of his control.

Someone was there, hovering, calling out to him in words Keith couldn’t comprehend.  They stood over him, a shadow of unknown intentions.

Keith jerked away, bombarded by violent flashes of the beasts from his nightmare, watching, tools glinting in the light, secured in their hands, meant to hurt.  They were going to hurt him.  There was so much blood, so much pain.  He couldn’t go through that again.  Not again.  Not like that.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Keith screamed, doubling over like an animal tensed for a fight.  His fingers clawed at his sheets as he trembled, body heaving.  “ _Go_ !   _Don’t touch me_.”

Hurried footsteps left his side and then, with the slide of the door and a flash of light from the hallway, Keith was alone.

He rolled onto his left side, trying to force his lungs to breathe in air.  Exhale air.  Writhing in agony.  He needed something, anything, to stop the pain.  He could barely remember his name.  

The hurt was spreading through him, infecting his mind, making him forget himself, making him sit in agony and only that.  Each second was a year, time stretching and bathing him in these wretched moments.

A hand came down on his back.  He didn’t even think about it, all he knew was he wouldn’t let himself be hurt again.  He grabbed the knife under his pillow and aimed blindly.

“Whoa!”

Resistance.  Someone had his wrist and was securing him in a firm grip.

“ _Stop_!”

 _It hurt._  They were going to hurt him.  He couldn’t take more.  He sobbed, twisting his body to try to get a better grip to save himself, fighting with all he had to drive the knife home.

“ _Keith!_  Keith, it’s me.”  If only he could just rip his arm off, maybe that’d help.  “It’s _Shiro_!”

Keith startled back to reality, ceasing his struggling.  It was as if his world swooped back in, giving his senses another go.  

He forced his neck up shakily, looking into silver eyes.  He was breathing like a wild animal.  He felt like one.

It was him. It was Shiro, a robe tossed over his shoulders, boxers on his torso, and that was it. He wasn't even wearing shoes.

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, face drawn tight in fear and agony.  “What’s wrong?  What happened?”

He was panting, arm still caught in Shiro’s hold, his other tucked desperately against his chest, holding it like it was falling off, peeling apart at the seams.  He couldn't think.  He couldn't  _think_.

“Shiro,” he breathed, bone weary.  His face was dripping with sweat and he was burning up, the last of an ember, even though he was just in his boxers, all skin bare.

“Keith, I’m here,” Shiro said softly.  “Are you with me?  Can you let go of the knife?”

“Ah…”  Keith sagged, letting himself go into Shiro’s hold completely.  

Shiro gently lowered him back onto the bed, brushing his hair away from his face  and out of his eyes.  He kept his hands cupped around his face for a moment, cool and gentle relief as Keith boiled alive.

It was only a butter knife - Shiro still had his good knife - but he felt a tug of fear as he thought of the damage he could’ve caused if Shiro hadn’t caught him.  

Pain cut through that thought and he groaned, pressing his face into the pillow and clamping down his teeth.

Shiro moved his hands, resting them on Keith’s shoulders.  “I’m going to pick you up, okay?  Is it your arm that hurts?  Anything else?”

“Arm,” he confirmed hoarsely.  

“Okay.  …Okay, here.”  Shiro leaned forward, slipping one hand beneath Keith’s legs and the other supporting his back.  “Hold onto me,” he murmured, ducking his neck for Keith to slip his good arm around.

“Shiro,” he muttered distractedly, slurring around the pain.  “How’d you know?  How are you here?”

“McClain came to my room to get me.  He said you’d been screaming like you were tortured in your sleep...”

“It fucking hurts,” he moaned, still writhing from the pain.  It didn’t help.  Nothing did.  He just wanted to escape this body.

The dimmed lights of the hallway were piercing into his skull.  “ _Shiro_.”  He pressed his face into Shiro’s robe, tears budding up in his eyes again.  “Shiro...”

“Hang in there, Keith.  Everything will be okay.  I’m taking you to the infirmary.  I’ll stay with you as long as you want, okay?”

Images flashed through his head: bright lights, looming figures, straps, pain, his arm, his arm, his arm, that word he whispered in a voice that wasn’t his: _Keith_.

He thought of the smell of the nurse’s office last time, that sterile _wrong_ smell that mimicked that of his dream.  He couldn’t do it.

“ _No_ ,” he spat vehemently, hand gripping onto Shiro’s shirt tightly.  “No, not there.”

“Keith, you’re sick.  Something’s wrong.”

“No, it’s just a nightmare.  I’ve been getting them.  It’s fine.  It’s normal.”

“This is _not_ normal.”

“Shiro.  Stop. _Stop._   _Fucking_ -”  He struggled.

Shiro, being a teacher’s assistant and not a fighter pilot yet, struggled to keep Keith in his arms.  “Stop fighting!”  He begged.

“Shiro, no!  Please! _Please_ , I can’t go there!  I can’t go back there.  I can’t, I can’t!”

“Keith!  Keith, calm down.  Calm down.”  He sunk to the ground, Keith still in his arms.  

Keith settled, chest heaving like a winded race horse.  He was completely at Shiro’s mercy.

“Don’t make me go there,” he whispered, the sound tearing at his throat.  He was shaking all over, too hot, too cold.  His skin was going to twist off his body.  He shifted his position on Shiro so that he could slide his arm around his neck in a better grip.  Chest to chest, Keith buried his face desperately in Shiro’s neck, seeking comfort in this refuge.

“Okay,” Shiro whispered, hesitantly bringing his hand to cradle Keith’s head.  Gently, he stroked the strands away from his sweaty neck.  He murmured softly, “You’re alright.  Nothing’s going to hurt you…  I’ve got you.  I won’t let go.”

They were in the middle of the hallway in the middle of night, the lights dimmed and the normal buzz of the Garrison quiet.  And they just stayed there for awhile as if it weren’t strange.  As if this were a seat made just for them.

But it _was_ strange, sitting there on Shiro’s lap, being lulled into a sense of security by the feel of gentle hands on his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

He was too weak to think about it, about what it could mean, and just let himself sink into it further.  He closed his eyes and gave himself to the feeling of peace and healing wholly.  He let himself unlock the final chains of resistance in his heart as he gave himself to Shiro.

“Can I take you to my room?”  Shiro muttered softly, somehow able to keep the silence in the room from being disturbed with the gentleness of his voice.

Keith nodded weakly.  The pain in his arm was still there, pulsing with the beating of his heart.  But it was ebbing, like waves were coming to shore, taking away traces of his pain to bring back to the ocean.

He groaned quietly when Shiro shifted.  Better or not, each minor movement still sent pain flashing up his mind.  He bit his lip, but Shiro moved with exaggerated slowness, sliding more than walking across the floor.  What should’ve taken a five minute walk became a fifteen minute crawl.

All the while, he talked, soft and comforting.  He gave Keith an anchor against the pain.

“Do you mind?”  Shiro breathed around silence after awhile.  “I could stop.”

“No,” Keith breathed, closing his eyes tightly and trying to work on uncurling the tension in his body that was doing him no favors.  “Keep going.  I want to hear your voice.  Talk about anything.  Anything at all.”

“Mmkay.  Um...my brother’s coming to visit soon,” he said softly.  “I think you’ll like him.  He says he just wants to come because he misses me, but you know he’s just here to check out the school.  Once he has a taste of the cafeteria food, though, I worry he’ll hightail it out of here.”

Keith managed to laugh, the sound weak, like paper being crinkled.  “...Unless it’s macaroni and cheese.”

Keith could sense Shiro smiling, even with his face pressed against the warm darkness of his neck.

 “Maybe we can take him to the arcade,” Keith muttered through the pain.  “...Get that gorilla.”  When Keith spoke, his lips grazed Shiro’s neck.  He was too far into limbo to care.  All his mind knew was that it felt good, comforting, and that Shiro didn’t seem to protest.

“Oh, if he gets the gorilla, he’s keeping it.  Matt won’t be getting anything.”

Another paper-y laugh.  He grunted as his arm twinged.  “Poor Matt’s sister...”

“I swear it’s Matt who really wants it.  He’s using his sister as an excuse.  I’ve been in their house.  Her room is full of lion plushies, no gorillas.”

Keith smiled and, though it was thin and strained, it was genuine.  

He could hear as a door slid open and the lights became brighter.

“Sorry,” Shiro said as Keith cringed against it.  A switch flipped and they went out, but the bathroom light remained, leaving a soft glow.  

“I’m going to set you down on the bed.  Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, his heart rate stuttering to a run as he felt his arm beginning to protest violently.

He moaned despite himself, writhing against Shiro who held his body as carefully as he could.  Gently, Shiro placed him onto the bed where the sheets had already been pulled down, spread out, where Shiro had slept only awhile before.  

Keith panted slightly, sprawled out on the sheets.  Shiro’s bed was much bigger and softer, but it was more than that.  It was Shiro’s bed.  It smelled like him and that brought a comfort Keith’s own rooms never could.

Shiro sat on the side, eyes scoping out Keith’s right arm carefully.  He ghosted his hand over the arm, not quite touching.  Keith could feel the warmth radiating over his skin.  

“Here,” Shiro murmured.  “Did you…?”

Keith tilted his head, feeling the tug in his shoulder from even that movement.  Shiro was looking down at red scratch marks that wrapped around his entire arm.  He nodded curtly.  “It felt real,” he explained.  “The dream.”

“…This is…”  Shiro shook his head.  “Keith, we need to get this looked into.  I’ve never heard of dreams causing this much pain.”

Keith closed his eyes heavily.  “What are they going to do?  Jump into my dreams?  ...They’re just going to tell me it’s stress.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of illness we don’t know about?”

“Dream illness,” Keith muttered in dark amusement.

“I’m serious!”  Panic bled into Shiro’s voice and he chewed down hard on it.  He hung his head, tightening his hands into fists.  “Just…humor me.”

Keith watched his face in the dim light.  He was tired suddenly, and his heart was so soft looking at that damn sad face.  “…Fine,” he whispered.  “But not right now.  I can’t do it right now.”

“Okay,” Shiro agreed quickly at the compromise.  “Can I get you anything?  Pain killers?  Water?”

“No,” Keith grunted, taking in a deep breath and letting it out even slower.  “No, just…”  

He had felt so content and warm in Shiro’s hold and now he was cold and his body ached and…

He was too far gone to care about things like pride and manners.  He had sobbed in Shiro’s arms and nearly stabbed him with a butter knife in his boxers.  

He reached over with his good arm, plucking at Shiro’s worn robe.  “Lay with me.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed in hesitance.  “Are you sure?  I don’t want to hurt your arm.”

“Come here,” Keith gestured him forward, his mind high on pain.  He could do anything right now.  When Shiro sat timidly beside him, Keith wormed his way over, snatching onto his warmth.

“Keith…”  Shiro said, his voice twisted in confusion.  

“Go to sleep,”  Keith murmured.  “I won’t leave.”

“You should try to sleep too.”

Keith shook his head.  That same image flashed across his mind and he hissed, his entire being tensing in fear.  “No.  I can’t.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment.  He settled into his spot next to Keith and they lay there, sharing a single pillow, bodies pressed up against the other.  It didn’t even feel strange.  It was just like two pieces of a puzzle fitting into place.  Even Shiro, not high off of pain, was just looking up at the ceiling, no flustered blush or stammering thoughts.  

“I’ll stay up with you then,” Shiro decided softly.  

The clock flashed 3:30 AM and Keith tsked in non-heated irritation.  “I can’t make you do that.”

“You’re not.”

“You need sleep -”

“It’s a slumber party,” Shiro said, a smile spreading across his lips.  “Haven’t you ever had one?”

“On a school night?”  Keith deadpanned.

Shiro just shrugged, shifting over slightly, so he could bop his head against Keith’s.  

Keith watched him.  He’d never felt such tenderness for another human being.  Not ever.  The cold space beside him that he had resigned to emptiness since his father left was now filled with radiance.  

“I haven’t ever had one,” Keith admitted, prying the truth from his heart.

“Hm?”  Shiro turned his head so they were staring at each other, breathing in the same air.

Keith fought around his hesitance, gripping onto Shiro’s hand with his own.  Feeling fingers weave through fingers.  “A slumber party.  …I’ve never had one.”  It was a soft admittance, painfully secret.  It could be felt in the air like pieces of a knife spread across the floor.  

Keith swallowed hard and let his eyes fall to the curve of Shiro’s shoulder.  Light was pouring in behind him through the bathroom door, giving him wings.  “You’re my first friend.”

“First friend?”  Shiro repeated, confusion coating his voice.  “Like, best friend?”

“No.”  Keith shifted slightly.  “I’ve never had a friend.  People always shied away from me.”

“What about school?  You went to school, right?”

Keith shrugged.  They were painful memories, things he hid from even himself, but, with Shiro beside him, it felt alright thinking about them.  “I went to school.  I lived in a small town and there weren’t many kids.  None of us ever got along.  They all formed cliques that I was never apart of.”

“That’s awful, Keith,” Shiro said softly.  “I’m sorry...  It’s hard making friends when you’re a kid.  I was lucky enough to have Ryou.  Too bad you couldn’t have had a sibling.”

“Yeah,” Keith said softly.  “I didn’t have anyone...  No friends, no siblings, no allies.”  He took a deep shaky breath.  He wasn’t sure what gave him the strength to admit it, but he did into the quiet of Shiro’s room, “...No parents.”

Shiro’s head shifted across the pillow as he stared, eyes wide on the dawn of understanding.  “...No parents?”

Another deep breath, or Keith tried to at least.  It was easier to admit it to Shiro than he had thought it’d be to admit to anyone, but it still squeezed at his heart and tried to choke the words from his lungs.  “...My parents left when I was very young.  I grew up in an orphanage.”

“…Orphanage…”  Shiro said.  Keith could see him swallowing hard.  “…I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t want you to know.  Ideally, I would’ve just kept it hidden forever.  ...It feels like a dirty word.  I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“That person?”

“Unloved.”

Shiro shifted, words burning from his throat as he whispered, “...Keith…”

They both lay there, hands entwined, warm.

And Keith felt...different.  Content.  Cared for.  Worth something.  Emotion flooded Keith, soft as butterfly wings.  It sunk into the vulnerable space of his heart and gently tugged his chest open, exposing his raw core.

He breathed out.  

It didn’t hurt.  He thought that it would, but it was warm and soft.  He didn’t panic.

He trusted Shiro, he realized.  Fully.  He could share this part of himself without being made fun of or thought less of.

Unloved?  He would’ve said, only a few months before, that he was, without a doubt, unloved.  But now...?  If this wasn’t love warming his chest, romantic or not, then what else could it be?

The realization was freeing.

Soon, Keith was talking.  Slowly, at first, and then it just became easier and easier.  He tumbled into it, a direct line between him and Shiro pouring everything that he’d held back for ages.  A dam coming undone, flooding them both.  Shiro squeezed Keith’s hand as he watched his face gently, keeping them afloat.  

“I was always their target,” Keith admitted.  “I think it started because I thought I didn’t belong with them.  I thought my father would come back for me.  And that they were unfortunate and I was...I was going to be the lucky one to go back home.”  He took in another deep breath.  “But it never happened.  I regret the way I viewed them; I was so stupid.  Like I thought they were discarded and worthless.  I was in such denial.  Once you’re the discarded piece of junk, it’s…it gets to you.  In ways I never thought possible, it does.

“My father, he just left one day.  He said he’d be back and he left and he just…never returned.

“I believed in him.  He said he’d be back, so I waited.  Every day, any chance I got, I’d shove myself against the glass window pane and stare at the empty road.  And then a year went past.  And more.  And I…  I got so angry.  At him.  At myself.  That fucking road was always just…empty.

“Slowly, I realized the orphanage wasn’t just a temporary thing.  It was my home...and my hell.  The other orphans would torment me.  I was small, _am_ small, I got angry easily, I didn’t know how to talk to others, I made for an easy target.  I had to learn to get tough or I’d be eaten alive.”

Shiro said, running his thumb over Keith’s knuckles, “Those five…  Anthony and the others.  That’s why you were so good at handling them.”

“They were nothing in comparison.  Rich snobs used to being treated fairly.  It wasn’t like that for me.  No one gave a shit if I died.  There was no one worried.  It was fight or be beat to a pulp.”

“Keith…”  

“God,” Keith blurt out, voice changing.  He rubbed a hand over his face.  “Sorry. …’M sorry.  I didn’t mean to talk about that.  I just…  Sometimes I feel like I’m unfair to you.  All the time.  And I want you to understand, I’m just…fucked up.  You’re amazing, Shiro.  You are.  You always try your best and you’re…  I mean, look at how fond everyone is of you.  That doesn’t just happen.”

Shiro asked innocently, “Are you fond of me?”

Keith snorted, wanting to flick his nose with his finger, but resorting to bumping their heads together instead.  They laughed.  “You have to know.  …God.  I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Shiro hummed happily, the sound a deep purr in his chest.  He turned up to the ceiling, eyes bright like stars.  “You too, you know.  You’re something special, Keith.  I’ve thought it since I first met you.  You don’t even realize how special you are.”

Keith grunted, his tone disregarding, but he said a soft, “thanks”.

“I don’t know how it works, but…did no one adopt you?  You didn’t have any foster parents or…or….?”

“No.  I…  I mean, I probably could’ve, but, like I said, I was mad back then.  Worse than now.  I used to go on horrible rampages.  I’d throw chairs out of windows, I’d toss visitor’s bags down the stairs.  I didn’t want to be taken by other people, not really.  I mean, I…”  Keith huffed, frowning.  “I used to make wishes on stars.  My father and I…we used to do that.  When he was gone, I still did that.  I’d climb on the rooftops and lay out there all night long, watching the skies.  I’d beg for a family, but when someone would try to adopt me, it…it felt like they were robbing me of my last chance of ever getting my family back.”

He bit his lip.

“Some stupid part of me I think is still waiting for him.  He wasn’t a liar.  And he had promised and…  I know, I know, he’s dead, but another part of me just…  I guess I can’t cope with that.”

Keith shifted, looking at Shiro.  “Like if you were to tell a lie.  I’d believe it.”

“Me?”  Shiro smiled faintly.  “Why would I lie to you?”

“It wouldn’t be a bad lie.  Maybe a white lie.  ‘Everything will be alright, Keith’, ‘beautiful weather we’re having, Keith’.  Something like that.  I’d believe you.  Even if it was hailing and the whole world was falling apart.”

Shiro hummed, mindlessly reaching up and brushing his hands through Keith’s hair.  “…that sounds like me.”

Keith smiled.

“How’s the arm?”  Shiro asked.

“It’s fine if I don’t move it.”

Worry was there on Shiro’s face again as he stared.  Keith grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his arm.  “Don’t look.”

“I just…  I want to know what’s going on with you…”

Keith groaned, but deflated.  “…I’ve been having dreams like this, Shiro.  It’s not new, it just was worse tonight.  It feels…like a warning.”

“A warning?”

“It feels like…  I don’t know, like I’m someone else in their body and they’re scared and they’re being tortured and I’m just seeing it all play out and there’s nothing I can do.  They…they called out my name.”

Shiro paused.  “Like…your father?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly, tilting his head to catch Shiro’s gaze.  “They’re just dreams.”

Shiro was silent.  Just dreams.  “Dreams don’t hurt people like that.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly, real fear breaching through his defenses. “…Tonight, they cut off his arm.”

The pillow shifted as Shiro turned to watch Keith’s face.  Keith whispered.  “I’ve never felt pain like that.  Raw fear.  I could see as they prepared the saw.  I could see as they pushed it through skin.  They didn’t even do it quickly.  They tore through it, cutting, like, like it was meat.  Like it was food.  It…  God, Shiro.  I’ve never felt so helpless.  I’m afraid.  I don’t want to go back to sleep.  I don’t want to feel that again.

“It’s - it’s different than a dream.  I can’t explain it, but it feels so real.  Like it’s happening, or will happen, or I don’t know.  The dreams are…insistent.  Like, something’s poking at my head and shouting for me to do something.  But I don’t know what.  And time’s running out and the consequences... _god_...”

Shiro held Keith tighter, lending his warmth.

Keith took a deep shaky breath in.  “What if it’s _you_?”

“What?”

“In the dream.  The person being tormented.  What if it’s you?”

“…I’m right here, Keith.  I’m fine, see?  Arm still attached and all.”

“I know, but…when I yelled out, he yelled out.  It…it was hard to tell through the pain but…but it almost sounded like -  And before -”

“Keith, it’s not me,” Shiro insisted as softly as he could.  He propped himself up on his elbow so he was looking down at Keith, filling his vision with himself and only that.  

Keith let him, staring up at Shiro like he was his entire world.  

“I’m fine, Keith.  Nothing’s going to happen to me.  Look,” he brought up his right arm and rolled his shoulder, showing it off.  He brought his finger up to Keith’s nose and poked it.  “Good, right?”

Keith smiled faintly.  He would believe anything Shiro said as long as he was the one who said it.  “…Yeah.”

He groaned, closing his eyes.  “God, am I tired…  I think that dream sloughed off five years of my life force.”

Shiro leaned back on his hands, pursing his lips.  “You could try to go to sleep and I’ll stay up and watch you.  McClain said you woke him up with your screaming -”

Keith groaned, tossing his hand over his face in embarrassment.

“It’s okay.  I’m just saying that if I see you looking uncomfortable, I’ll wake you.  How does that sound?”

Peeling his fingers apart, Keith peeked out at Shiro.  “You’d do that for me…?  Don’t you have a lesson tomorrow?”

Shiro shook his head, unconcerned. “This is far more important.”

Keith’s heart swelled like a balloon, full and ready to burst.  He grabbed at Shiro’s wrist and tugged him down.  He hummed in contentment and closed his eyes as Shiro gave in to him, nestling into the space beside him.  “How are you so damn perfect?”

“Perfect,” Shiro chuckled.  “That’s not true.  I just want to help.”

“Hmm.  I’ll be fine, Shiro.  Go to sleep.  Seriously.  My roommate sleeps like a rock; if I woke him up, I’ll wake you up…and you can just save me then, okay?”

The eyebrows of worry were back.  “Are you sure?  I don’t mind -”

“I know you don’t mind.  Thank you.  But we should both sleep.  We’re going to be tired tomorrow as it is.”

“But I -”

“That’s final, cadet.”

Shiro snorted, raising an eyebrow.  “Excuse me?”

“Mm,” Keith smiled, keeping his eyes closed.  “I just wanted to try saying that once.”

Shiro smiled fondly.  His voice was so damn soft when he spoke.  “…Goodnight, Keith.  Sleep well.”

“’Night, Shiro.”

Keith nestled into Shiro’s bed, side-by-side with him, hands clasped together tightly.

They slept face-to-face, snuggled into each other’s warmth.

Keith did not have a single nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me [on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	8. Chapter 8

When Keith woke, he woke alone.  He knew without opening his eyes.  It was quiet.  It felt cold, like the emptiness Keith was used to.  He almost started to believe that last night had been just a dream about a dream, when he forced himself to open his eyes.  

Shiro’s bed.  The blankets were pulled up and over Keith, but the space Shiro had slept was empty.  The sheets were cold as Keith ran his fingers across them carefully.

Gone for awhile then.

It was then that he realized light was streaming through the curtains, high and bright.  It was past morning.  It was late, too late for school.  Oh, god, he’d slept in.

Shiro was probably already teaching his class.  Embarrassment burned in Keith’s cheeks.  He felt so fucking stupid.

He scrambled to push himself up and as he did, a rustle of paper fell down his sheets.  

A note.

In Shiro’s handwriting.

It said:

 

_I sent you a message on your tablet but just realized you’re not even wearing your watch.  We should get that set up later today._

_Don’t worry about getting to class.  I’ve told Iverson you’re unwell (I gave him details, I’m sorry I didn’t ask before) and he’s letting you take today off for everything as long as I watch you. :)_

_I went to get breakfast.  Hopefully I’m back before you wake up, but if not, I’ll be right there.  You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn’t wake you._

_Shiro  :)_

 

Keith was smiling down at the note in his hand, a dorky fond grin on his face.

He caught himself, trying to pull his face back into some sort of self-respecting expression.  No use.  

Shiro was just…  Shiro was everything.  He got now why everyone threw themselves at him so desperately.  If Shiro didn’t look his way, Keith would’ve had to come up with some crafty ways to get his attention.  He wasn’t certain how desperately far he would’ve gone, but he sure was glad he wouldn’t have to find out.

He sighed happily, letting himself fall back down on the soft pillow.  Shiro’s pillow.  He breathed in.  Shiro’s air.

Okay, that was creepy.

But he was shameless suddenly with no regrets.  He just felt so damn light, like all his worries and responsibilities were nothing now.  Was this what happiness felt like?  Did everyone feel this amazing all the time?

To think, he had just locked himself up in that stupid bathroom only yesterday, and then, at night, he had experienced the worst pain he ever had, but now…?  He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been happier.  He guessed you’d never know what life was going to throw at you.

The door slid open and Keith sat up, nervousness suddenly fluttering in his stomach.  He looked up shyly.

And stopped.

It was Shiro...but wasn’t.  He was smaller.  Thinner.  Younger.  More gangly and less… _Shiro_.  He lacked the radiance and gentle demeanor Keith had come to expect.  The friendly warmth.

Of course, it was easy to say that, because right at that moment, he was staring right at Keith with narrowed eyes, looking like he was getting ready to leap at him and murder him.

The intruder yelled at him in a language he didn’t understand.

Keith blinked.  “Um.  Who the fuck are you?”

It didn’t go over well.  The boy recoiled as if he’d been slapped, horror making him gasp for air.  With one last indignant squawk, he turned on his heel and ran.

“Wait!”  Keith called, reaching out and pushing himself off of the bed, but his arm twinged sharply, catching him by surprise.  He’d almost forgotten all about that.  His feet tangled and he fell face-first onto the floor.

“What’s all that yelling?”  Someone came around the side of the door curiously.  

It was Matt, followed by an even smaller Matt.

“What the fuck,” Keith and Matt said at the same time.

Matt stared at Keith blankly for a good five seconds.  

Then his face blared red as he seemed to grasp at the situation.  “I -I -I- Sorry!”  And he stumbled out, speeding away before the door even shut.

Keith looked down at himself, seeing what Matt had seen.  Keith, sleeping in Shiro’s bed.  Keith, in only his boxers.

It was a horrible misunderstanding.

“Wait!  Matt!”

Keith jumped to his feet and forced himself out the door, calling.

“I don’t want to know!  I don’t want to know!  God.  Katie, close your eyes.  It burns.  This is a part of the Garrison I don’t want you to ever see.”

“What?”  Keith could hear Katie asking excitedly.  “What is it?”

“Matt,” Keith groaned, exasperated.  He made to chase him down, but he kept forgetting about the night before, and pain grabbed at him impatiently, subduing him.  It caught him, sharp and sudden, and he fell.  Hard.

His whole body made a loud slapping sound that echoed through the entire hallway.  

“Jesus,” he heard Matt curse as he ran for him.  “Ever learn how to run?”

Keith grunted, accepting Matt’s hand gingerly as they peeled him from the floor.  

“Keith?”  Shiro’s voice cut through the hallway, panicked and sharp.

“I’m fine,” he called, looking up.  There Shiro was, golden and beautiful and bright even in his worry, skidding to a stop at Keith’s side.  He looked even better than Keith remembered, hair slight disheveled and face flushed brightly, and that was saying something.

There was Shiro’s mini-me, trailing behind him with cautious unhappy eyes.  A grumpy cat in comparison to a soft floppy puppy.

“Am I going crazy and seeing double, or do both of you have your younger versions following you?”

Shiro laughed, out of breath.  He set one plate of food topped high beside him, taking Keith from Matt and keeping him steady.  “How’s the arm?”

“It’s good.”

“Is that why you were sprawled out in the hallway?”

“I tripped.  Matt had a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?”  Shiro looked up at Matt who was cringing, face still red with discomfort.  

“Look,” Matt said, holding his hands up, “I don’t care what the two of you do, but you don’t have to tell me all the gory details.  I don’t want to know.  My ears are pure and innocent.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Keith said as Shiro froze in place, his entire body turning a violent shade of red as he let out a cough that sounded more like a strangled choke.

“I got sick last night, so Shiro helped me out.”

“Sick,” Matt muttered lowly, eyes shifting in vague disbelief.

“I…it’s nothing…”  Keith muttered, fading.  Embarrassment was setting in despite himself and he knew the more attention he called to himself, the more everyone in the hall would see the flush that bled down his neck and across his chest.  Matt was bad enough, but two strangers of people he cared about was more than a few steps too far.  These were things he just didn’t need to share.

“I said I don’t care,” Matt said, his voice softening with his brand of kindness.

Shiro cleared his throat painfully, unable to look anyone in the eyes.  “Keith’s not lying, Matt.”

“Okay,” Matt held his hands up in forfeit.  “Alright.  Everyone’s telling the truth, I get it.”  Giving in, he stepped to the side, gesturing loosely to Keith.  “Katie, this is Keith, Shiro’s new friend.  Keith, this is my sister, Katie.”

“Hey,” Keith said.  

“Hi.”

Katie was looking down at him from the tip of her nose, a hint of dark amusement in her eyes that didn’t seem to fit the style she wore.  She stayed behind her brother’s back in her little innocent dress.  She nodded her greeting at Keith, eyes flashing to Shiro, who smiled his friendly smile.  

“I forgot sibling day was today,” Shiro muttered into Keith’s ear as he helped him to his feet.  “I thought we still had a few more days.  I’m sorry.  It must’ve been a surprise.”

“I think it was a surprise for him more so, honestly,” Keith muttered lowly back, flashing a hesitant look his way.

“Ryou, come here,” Shiro said, nodding him forward through the door.  “We’re going back in my room.  Want to come?”  He asked Matt.

“Doesn’t Keith need to go to class like, uh, three hours ago?  He doesn’t have a sibling that I can see.”  He tilted to his left and then his right to look around them for anyone else hiding.

“Iverson gave him a day off.”

“Good god, what’d you have to do to pull that off?”

Shiro tsked impatiently, grabbing the plate of food.  “Are you coming or not?”

“Nah, I’m glad Katie got to see this shitshow though, I didn’t think she’d be able to meet Keith with his schedule and all.  I’ve been writing all about you guys to her.  This is him, by the way, the infamous Takashiluvr.”

She snorted, laughing under breath.  “He’s shorter than I imagined.”  

She and Matt laughed together.  When Matt beamed down at her, she smiled sweetly back up.  Two peas in a pod.  Figured.  “I was just going to show her my handiwork in the flight sim.  See you guys later.”

“Sorry,” Shiro said again, walking beside Keith with his hand carefully guiding him by the shoulder.  When Keith tensed and paused, taking in a sharp pained gasp, Shiro was there, shoving the food at Ryou quickly and holding onto Keith with both hands.  “I don’t know why I keep forgetting things,” he sighed, helping Keith to the bed as Ryou brought the food in mutely.  “Are you alright?”  He asked Keith.  “How are you feeling?”

Keith shifted, slowly rolling his arm out.  “It’s better.  A lot better.”

“Good,” Shiro relaxed a bit.  “But you still shouldn’t get out of bed.  That was reckless.”

“You’re such a mother hen,” Keith sighed, but he eased into it, smiling fondly at Shiro’s protective behavior.

Shiro still looked sightly frazzled.  There was a brightness in his eyes that wasn’t his usual glow, edged in anxiety.  He bit his lip, working on it as he flashed his eyes up to Ryou.

Ryou started in, voice sharp and irritated, speaking quickly in a different language.

Shiro stopped him.  “You know it’s rude when you do that,” he said.  “We don’t need to keep secrets from Keith.”

Ryou sniffed, giving him a cool look.  “Okayyyy, fine.  You were supposed to pick me up at the airport this morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I had to take a taxi.”

“…Sorry…”

“It smelled like cheese.”

“I’m sorry.  Really.  I had every intention of meeting you there and picking you up, but I thought it wasn’t for another few days.  I got distracted.”

Ryou’s gaze flickered over to Keith’s before it jumped away, as if burned.  “…It’s not like you to be distracted.”

“I know, I know.  I just…  Sorry.  That’s all I can say.  I didn’t mean it.”

Ryou’s shoulders loosened.  His voice was quiet.  “Did you want me to come back later?”

“No!   That’s not it.  I’m happy to see you.  Really.  I just…give me a moment to catch up.  Keith was sick last night and we were up for most of the night and I’m still just…”  He waved his hands in the air and sighed.  “I’m so sorry.  To both of you.  Just give me a moment.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Keith said, nudging Shiro in the back with his toe.

Shiro leaned back to look at Keith and smiled, tired, but loosening.

Keith was uncomfortable.  His effort to look casual and relaxed was just that - effort.  Heated judgmental eyes were following his every movement, analyzing critically.  He tried to ignore it and focus on anything else - Shiro, the pain in his arm, any sort of distraction, but those dang eyes were too sharp.  Shiro must’ve taken all the gentleness in the womb, leaving his brother with nothing but a painful distrust.

Shiro grabbed Keith’s toe and jostled it playfully, the movement almost subconscious.  “Okay,” he said, his voice finally serene.  He settled his hand on Keith’s bare leg, not noticing the blush settling in Keith’s cheeks.  “Hi.  Ryou.  Take a seat anywhere.  Are you hungry?  I got a lot of food.”

Ryou shook his head and walked across the room, sitting on the edge of the couch, still staring like Keith had a knife and was about to plunge it into Shiro’s temple.

Shiro looked down at the plate on the bed, his face red.  “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you liked from the breakfast selection…besides banana muffins, of course,” he chuckled to Keith.  “So I got everything.”

“ _Banana muffins_...  Thanks,” Keith said.  With Shiro’s help, he heaved himself back up and sat crossed legged behind him, picking through the food.

Shiro turned back to Ryou.  “How was the trip?”

Ryou just shrugged.

“It’s a long flight, isn’t it?  Did you bring a book or video game?”  He turned to Keith.  “Ryou’s really good at video games.”  To Ryou:  “Keith and I suck.”

That seemed to only pinch Ryou’s face in harder.  

“…Are you okay?”  Shiro said in dismay, his shoulders sagging.  “I know you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to -”  

He was interrupted by the loud wail of his watch.  The name “Iverson” popped up in bright letters.

Shiro huffed softly.  “I’d better take this.  You two be nice, got it?”

Keith hummed, nodding, face shoved full of strawberries.  Shiro patted his head and wandered out into the hallway, leaving the two of them officially alone.

The silence was stifling.  Ryou’s piercing gaze was even worse.

Keith forced himself to focus on his fingers, licking the red strawberry guts off of them one by one.

Finally, Ryou snapped through the silence, “That’s disgusting.”

Keith cringed.  “Ah, sorry…”  

“My brother just caters to you all the time, huh?  Brings you breakfast in bed?  Seduces the teachers for you?”

Keith’s eyes flew wide as he realized that was exactly what Shiro was doing for him.

“My brother’s a good person.  He’s too good.  He wouldn’t recognize someone swindling him even if they admitted it to his face.  So I’m wondering…what are you doing here?  My brother’s pretty good-looking, isn’t he?  Pretty popular.  He’s smart and a prodigy.  So who are you?”

“I…  I’m…”  Keith shied away from the question, feeling suddenly especially bare in the face of these questions.  

“I saw him in high school back at home.  You wouldn’t believe how many people would be all over him, wanting things from him.  He couldn’t see their ulterior motives.  He’s too good.”

He crossed his arms and glared Keith down.  

“Are you two together?”

“I…no, I…  I don’t know.”

“You seem pretty close,” he said, tilting his head and leaning in.  

“I…”

“You like him.”

“That is…”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Th-this is -!  It has nothing to do with you!!  Shiro is his own person!  Maybe…maybe he sees only the good in people, but is that a bad thing?  Yes, he’s too good for me.  He’s too good for everyone.  But he can make his own choices.  And I don’t need you cross examining me because you’re worried.  I..I’m worried too.  I’ve tried to push him away, but he just won’t give up.  So you’re out of luck.”

Ryou blinked and paused.  After one sharp inhale, he said, “I want you to break up with him-”

“-No!”  Keith said.  And then flushed red, brushing his hand through his hair nervously.  “Um…no.  We’re uh, we’re not together.”

“But you’re sleeping together?”  He deadpanned.

“No!  Didn’t you hear us explain to Matt earlier?  God.  What a mess.”

He looked at the bedding next to Keith.  The blankets had been tucked in, but somehow, Ryou had x-ray vision and knew.  “You both slept in his bed, though.”

Keith shifted uncomfortably.  “Yes.  But again, I don’t get how this is any of your business.”

They stared each other down for a moment before Ryou sighed heavily, a soul-weary sigh that had him leaning his head back and shrugging his shoulders.  It had a glimmer of Shiro in the gesture that finally had Keith seeing him in his Ryou.

“Shiro doesn’t normally get this close to people,” he said softly, right before the door opened and Shiro came walking in.

He looked up between them and paused.  “Uh-oh.  Ryou, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he complained, hands in the air, sighing.  “Your boyfriend’s fine.  He passes the test.”

“Test?  Ryou, I told you to be nice.”

“I _was_ nice.”

Shiro gave him a withering glare before taking a spot beside Keith. “He didn’t say anything horrible, did he?”

Keith’s mind was still reeling too quickly to remember. “I…  It’s fine.”

Shiro sighed, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes, looking like he was preparing for a long speech.

“No, really, it’s fine.  What’d Iverson have to say?”

“Iverson has been trying to get in contact with you since this morning.  We really need to set up your watch.  Or at least bring your tablet around with you.”  

“Keep it in my boxers?”  Keith rose his eyebrows.

“Well, obviously not that,” Shiro laughed softly, amusement making his face glow.  “He wants you to get checked out for your arm.  He’s already set up an appointment for you.”

“Is he contagious?”  Ryou asked.  

“No, but something’s up.  You okay to walk, Keith?  We can go now if you’d like.  Here, you can borrow some of my clothes.”

Ryou’s eyebrows shot up and he slid his eyes over at Keith, searching for a reaction.  Keith ignored him.  “Thanks, Shiro.”

“Hm.”  He held up a shirt from his drawer, comparing it to Keith.  “I have a feeling you’ll be drowning in all of them.”

“We can stop by my room.”

“Nah.  This’ll be fine.  The infirmary is closer than you room anyhow.  Besides, look how cool this shirt is.  Nasa logo.”

“You are such a nerd,” Keith laughed softly, catching it with his good hand as Shiro turned back to look for pants.

“We are in the _Galaxy Garrison_.  Space is in the name.”

Keith was still chuckling as he pulled the shirt over his head.

“So what’s wrong with him?”  Ryou pressed.

“Nothing,” the nurse decided after she assessed him.

Keith sat on the table, uncomfortable and abnormally cold, as he always felt in medical offices.  It was worse this time though, the smell bringing him back to that hellish slab in his dream, being poked and prodded and cut apart.  He dug his nails into his hands in an attempt to keep it together while Shiro and Ryou stayed on the guest seats for moral support.  “You’re perfectly healthy.  Besides your own scratches, there's  no damage to the muscles, nerves, or blood vessels.  It still hurts when you move it?”  

“Yes - ah - don’t poke at it like that.”

Shiro sat forward.  “Could dreams trick the brain into believing the pain is real?  I was there last night.  He was in real agony.  His whole body was trembling.”

She hissed uncertainly, face scrunching.  “…Not in the way you're implying.  Not in any cases I’ve heard of.”  She took out her stethoscope.  “Breathe in.”

He did so.

“And out…”

It was cold against his skin.  His heart pounded hard.

“…Everything’s good.  I can’t find anything wrong.  It might just be stress.”

Keith shot a knowing look at Shiro, who grimaced.  

“The Garrison’s a tough place.  Sometimes it just takes its toll on people harder than others.”

Keith sighed, pressing his fingertips into his eyeballs until color bled into them.  “It’s not that,” he groaned.  “It’s something else.  They feel real.  More real than now.  They’re like…visions pouring into me.  I can’t move…  I….”  

“Yep.  Stress,” the nurse decided.  “Don’t underestimate it.  Nightmares are often like that.”

“It’s _not_ like a nightmare!  You’re not listening!  It’s something _else._ ”

Shiro placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder gently, rubbing slowly in gentle encouragement.  It doused the fire in Keith enough for him to bite any angry words back.  She said,  “If you have any other symptoms, you can come back.  I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Yeah,” Keith bit out bitterly in irritation.

Shiro helped him walk out, arm wrapped around his back, supporting his weight.  The hallways were empty in the middle of the day; everyone was still in class.  “Well, that was a waste of time.”

Keith just sighed heavily.  “We knew it would be.”

Ryou asked, “the dreams.  What do you dream of?”

Keith rose his eyebrows in surprise.  “Um.  It depends.  I…”  He flashed a glance at Shiro, who was watching him with blatant interest on his face.  “I can’t be sure...  But it seems almost like...like looking through a door into someone else’s life.  Like their words are pouring from my mouth, like their pain is my pain.  It feels like a warning somehow, like it’s something that’s to come.”

“Prophetic?”  Shiro frowned.

“…I know it sounds crazy.  I don’t know what to think of it…  But I just know I need to pay attention to it...”

“We’ll figure it out, Keith.  Don’t worry.”

They made it back in Shiro’s room and Keith let out a small breath of relief.  He hadn’t even been in Shiro’s room a lot, but it felt like a refuge in a way that nowhere else ever had.  He sprawled out on Shiro’s bed and sighed happily.

“It’s so nice not to have to scrub the damn floors or clean those disgusting toilets.”

Ryou frowned.  “Why would you have to do that?”

“Detention.  I beat up some kids.”

Shiro said vehemently, “ _they_ started it.  I saw it happen.  They didn’t give you much choice.  …I’m sorry for not stepping in to help sooner.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want you to get involved in that petty shit anyway.”

“They shouldn’t have targeted you.  That wasn’t fair.”

Keith hummed a denial.  “I didn’t have to hurt them like that.”

“Wow,” Ryou said.  “Like a real life drama or something.  Is the Garrison always this interesting?”

There was a grin in Shiro’s voice.  “Only with Keith around.  He brings the fun with him.”

“You call my pain ‘fun’?”  Keith squawked.

Shiro chuckled, smiling over at Keith again.  

They talked for most of the day, Ryou slowly warming up to Keith.  It was fine.  Keith took awhile to warm up to people too, that was for sure.  In that way, Keith and Ryou were more alike than even Keith and Shiro.  There was something comforting about getting along with Shiro’s brother too.  Shiro seemed happy about it, unable to keep the smile off his face the entire time.

In the afternoon, kicked out on Shiro's couch all watching TV together, Shiro asked Ryou, “I know you were wanting to look around the Garrison.  Want me to take you somewhere tonight if Keith doesn’t mind?”  

“I don’t mind,” Keith said.

Ryou looked between them for a long moment as he thought.  He shook his head slowly as he leaned back and crossed his hands over his stomach.  “…Nah...it’s okay.  It’s not everyday I get to hang out in your room with you.”

“You sure?  There’s the arcade, the training room, the flight sim.  I’ve got to update Iverson on Keith’s status first really quickly but after that we have all night.  Think about it.”

“I will.”

Shiro left out the front door again and Ryou sat cross-legged on the couch, picking at the end of it.

Keith watched for a moment before saying, “If you’re staying for me, there’s no need.  I get family’s important.  I don’t need to be taking up your time with your brother.”

“No, that’s not it,” he said, eyes flicking up, fingers still rolling thread into a ball.  “I just...  I dunno.  He’s happy around you in a way that’s not fake.  You have no idea how painful it’s been to be around him when he's not being real.  It’s nice to see...  I’ve missed ‘the real Shiro’.”

“...Yeah?”  Keith leaned his head on his palm, thinking.  “Well, what sort of things have you been wanting to see at the Garrison?”

“Me?”  Ryou wrinkled his nose.  “Oh, I don’t know.”

Keith frowned.

As Keith stared, Ryou buckled.  “...Uh, well, Shiro keeps saying you’re pretty good in the flight sim.”

“Sure, I get by.”

“Better than my brother.”

“‘Better’ is subjective.”

Ryou shot Keith a weathered look.  “Your _score_ is higher.  Happy?”

Shiro came striding in again. “Phone call all taken care of.  Have you decided what you want to do?”

“The flight sim,” Ryou nodded.

“Okay.  Keith, do you mind if we -”

“- I want to see the both of you race.”

“So demanding,” Shiro arched an eyebrow in his direction and crossed his arms tightly.  “What makes you think we’ll do as you say?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith said brightly, his eyes shining like stars.  He turned them on Shiro, “Please, Shiro, I’ve always wanted to go against you.”

Shiro’s eyes went wide at Keith’s reaction.  “You have?”

“A race!  Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“But...but you’re _hurt_ right now.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, grinning crookedly, “so you might actually stand a chance right now.”

“Oooh,” Shiro shook his head, trying to press down a laugh but it burst free anyway.  “You are _on_.  I think you don’t realize how many races I’ve done.  They’re different than the usual sim sessions.”

“I think I can manage,” Keith tilted chin up.

“Let’s see it then,” Shiro grinned back.  

He went to help Keith stand, but Keith was already sliding off the bed, holding his hand up at the offer.  “I’ve got this,” Keith said cooly.

“Wow, look at you, I’m impressed.”  

Ryou followed behind them with a smile.

 

“So you shove your card into this thing,” Keith explained to Ryou, who hovered over his shoulder.  Keith demonstrated and the sim’s dashboard lit up cyan for them.  “And then you can grab onto this thing here to go forward.  This thing _over here_ ,” Keith leaned over.  “If you want a boost in speed, you can use it, but it takes awhile to recharge and if you don’t have good enough control then it’s a huge risk.  Now _this_...”  

Shiro was watching Keith from the co-pilot seat casually, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in mild confusion.  “Do you...not know what anything is called?”

“Huh?”  Keith said, looking up.  His face flushed red.  “I-I know what they’re called.”

“I was just wondering.  You’re being pretty ambiguous.”

“I...”  Keith struggled for two seconds before heaving out a sigh.  He ducked his head, busying himself with fiddling on some sort of control.  “We haven’t gotten that far in class yet.”

Shiro chuckled softly, running a hand across his face.  “I forget sometimes that you are just floating by on instinct.”

“I don’t need to know what they’re _called_ to understand what they do or how to work them.”

“That’s obvious,” Shiro hummed, turning over to the scores that lit up his side of the screen.  They scrolled by lazily, a collection of Keiths mixed with the remains of Shiros.

“Who is...Takashi...lover...?”  Ryou said, voice fading in color the longer he thought about it.

Keith and Shiro snorted at the same time.

“That’s a long story,” Shiro said at the same time Keith said, “me”.  

“...Oh,” was all Ryou was able to afford.

“Okay, ready to go?”  Shiro hummed, tapping the dashboard with his finger.  “Or I can explain the basics to you, if you want.  This is what we use to steer.”  He was laughing.

Keith pointed a stern finger at him, losing as he fought hard to keep the smile off his face.  “I’ll make you regret those words.  I’m ready.”

Shiro flashed him one last smile before swinging his attention to the screen.  “Tied in, Ryou?”  

Ryou took the seat behind Keith and buckled himself in.

“So we can’t both command different ships at the same time here obviously,” Shiro said.  “But we can record the previous flight and set it to ghost data and...there.  Want to go first?”

“You can go first.  I’ve gotta know what I have to beat.”

Shiro shook his head, smiling.  “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Always am,” Keith hummed.

Shiro always flew beautifully.  Even if he was laughing and having fun, he flew with his head held high, with his hands firmly holding onto the controls, his feet planted on the ground.  He watched the horizon, always looking ahead.

Keith tried to focus on what was ahead of them on the screen but it was hard to do that when he could see from his peripheral the powerful grace and confidence radiating beside him.  He was helpless against that pull.  He found himself watching Shiro more than not, smiling to himself.

“And that,” Shiro said breathlessly as he finished the course, turning to smile at Keith, “is how it’s done.”

“Your way maybe,” Keith shrugged.

Shiro laughed, leaning over to ruffle Keith’s hair, who squawked and batted him away.  Shiro shone in the light, brow shimmering slightly with sweat as he bobbed out of his seat.

“That was cool, Shiro,” Ryou said from behind them, his eyes alight with pride.  “All that practice has paid off.”

“Yours will too, Ryou.  I know you’ll be amazing.”  Shiro meant it as he said it, beaming over at Ryou, nodding in encouragement and faith.

That warmth, spreading through the world one person at a time, supporting, building up...he was the sort of person that Keith wanted to strive to be.  Even if he could only help one person, he wanted to try. To redeem himself for the people he'd hurt in the past. To spread healing instead of hurt.

Shiro was beautiful.

Keith looked back at his controls, fiddling with them, desperate for a distraction.

“Okay,” Shiro said, still slightly breathless as he plopped himself back into his seat.  “Time for _you_ to show me how it’s done.”

“I can do that,” Keith nodded, starting up his section.

Keith didn’t have much time to wonder what Shiro might’ve thought of him as he flew.  Maybe he watched Keith as Keith watched Shiro, breath suspended, time slowing, eyes wide in wonder.  Maybe he looked ahead at the screen and saw what Keith saw, the limitless expanse of the universe ahead of them, fake or not, but a future that was theirs to love together.

All Keith could focus on was that intuition that guided him, that whispered to him softly to trust himself, to do what felt right.  It was much like the intuition that wrapped around him in his dreams, clinging to him, begging him to _listen._

But for that moment, he just let himself experience the feel of space.  Of the rush piloting brought him.  He forgot about the race.  He forgot he was competing.  He just flew.

As the sim ended, silence settled.  “Wow,” Ryou whispered.  Keith was panting slightly.  He rubbed his arm against his brow.  “...Now I get it.”

Keith sniffed, rubbing at his nose.  “Did I win?”

Shiro’s cheeks were a little red and eyes a little dazed as he shrugged.  “What do you think?”

“Uh...”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I kind of lost myself.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said gently, tilting his head as he watched Keith through soft eyes.  “You do that sometimes...  It’s always amazing to watch.”

“It’s like you become one with the machine or something,” Ryou was saying, his eyes sparkling as he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over Keith’s chair.  “How do you do that?”

Keith blinked, tensing, taken aback.

Ryou had the biggest smile across his face as he leaned into Keith’s space.  “When I come next year, will you teach me?”

“Like a mentor,” Shiro smiled at that.

Ryou nodded vigorously.  “I’d be honored if you could...  I mean, you don’t have to think about it _now_ obviously _,_ but if you could consider it.  I think you’re amazing.”

Shiro was pressing a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle laughter.

Keith nodded slowly, unsure how to take such enthusiasm.  “Um...I’ll think about it.”

“Cool,” Ryou said, eyes still bright.

When they left the sim, they found Matt and Katie walking out of one of the others, grins on their faces.  

“Aw, man,” Matt whined when he saw them.  “Did you two fly?  You should’ve called me.  I would’ve loved to show Katie.”

“Sorry, Matt, I didn’t think we’d be out.  Ryou wanted to see us race.”

“Oh man, Ryou, how were they?  Was it a battle to the death?”

Ryou laughed, walking faster to catch up with Matt and Katie.  He talked with them as Shiro hung back, falling in step with Keith.  

“Someone has a crush,” Shiro muttered lowly, smiling crookedly as he nodded toward Ryou.

Keith looked over, inspecting Ryou and Matt talking.  “Oh, on Matt?”

“Keith,” Shiro laughed.  “I meant on you.”

“ _Me_?”

“Did you see his face as he looked at you?  He looked like a child again, all that teenage apathy burned right out of him.  You inspired him.  And I get why.  You’re something else when you fly, light bursting through the night sky - a shooting star.”

“Oh,” Keith chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to swallow away the embarrassment.  “...Thanks.  It’s funny you say that.  My father used to call me that, you know.”

“A shooting star?”

“Well, not a _shooting_ star.  A fallen star.”

“Fallen?  Isn’t that bad?”  Shiro frowned, angling his body so that he was facing Keith better.  “Why would he -”

“- Hey, earth to Shiro!”  Matt, Katie, and Ryou were stopped ahead, staring straight at Shiro and Keith.  “Do I have your attention finally?  It’s like I’m pondscum over here.  Maybe if I wear a Keith mask, you’ll listen to me better.  Did you want pizza?  We can split the price.”

“Sure,” Shiro said.  “What’d you want, Keith?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

Shiro gave him a _look_.

They ended up getting way more pizzas than they needed, but that was okay because with everyone chipping in, so it seemed cheap.  They all piled into Shiro’s living room, hanging on the couches, cramming their mouths full as the T.V. blared and they played card games and talked together.

“So, Ryou,” Matt said, opening the pizza box for another slice, fingers already orange with grease.  “Tell us the most embarrassing Shiro story you can think of.  I know you’ve got some stuff, so cough it up.”

Ryou choked into his soda.  “Shiro will kill me.”

“I will,” Shiro said mildly, “I most definitely will.”

Ryou hummed.  “Well, there was this one time -”

“-Ryou.  You’re supposed to be my _brother_.”

“Keith wants to know, don’t you, Keith?”

Shiro’s eyebrows were high as he rounded on Keith.

Keith smiled and coughed into his hand.  “Uh...  I’m staying out of this.”

Ryou grinned and Shiro’s mouth pulled down at the corners.  “Well, there was this one time, when Shiro was in middle school.  He didn’t know what kind of deodorant to use, so he went to ask our grandpa for advice.  Of course our grandpa gave Shiro one of his own.  And the next day at school, Shiro was walking around school and everyone was asking who the one was wearing the old man perfume.  It was just Shiro, quietly sneaking through school.  He came home from school so distressed.”

“How is that any different from how he smells now?”  Matt laughed.

“Hey,” Shiro frowned.

Keith laughed too, nudging Shiro’s shoulder with his own.  “I like how you smell.”

“See?”  Matt nodded toward Keith, eyebrows high as he grinned cat-like.  “It’s working.  Keith likes old men apparently.”

“Okay, I didn’t say _that_ ,” Keith shot him a weary look.

Katie was pressing her lips together.  “You know, Matt has a treasure trove of embarrassing stories if you guys want to hear them.”

“No, no, no,” Matt leaned over, pressing his hands to her face.  “We already all know my life is a walking dumpster fire.  It’s funnier hearing about Shiro’s woes because everything else about him is perfection.  See the sparkling stars above his head?  And even still, if the worst of his woes is smelling like an old man’s deodorant then I’d say he’s pretty lucky.”

“True...  Especially since Keith likes old men.”

“Guys, come on,” Shiro said patiently.

Matt and Katie chuckled together.  “Kidding, kidding.  ...But speaking of - Ryou, how’s it going in school?  I’d bet everyone swarms you looking like you do.”

“Uh,” Ryou laughed softly, scratching at his face with a finger.  “Not really.”

“What?  Why not?  Are they blind?”

“Shiro’s a lot to live up to,” he mumbled.  “The teachers all remember him.  He’s sort of this legend wherever he goes.  Hard to live up to.”

“Ryou...”  Shiro said softly.

“Nah, I’m not mad.  It just means that sometimes it’s easier to fly underneath the radar.  But then that means no one knows who I am either.”  He laughed, but it was forced, the sound small.  “It kind of sucks sometimes though.  I mean, Shiro, remember that year when basically everyone in the high school asked you to the Sadie Hawkins dance, so you had to tell them you promised me you’d bring me instead?”

Shiro smiled crookedly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  “Yeah...”

“Well, every single one of my friends got asked to go besides me.  I was literally the only one.”

Shiro hesitated.

Keith watched him as Shiro stared hard at Ryou, a tight desperation winding him up in his seat, making his back go rigid and his hands twitch, a small movement in an attempt to reach forward.

He was stuck.  Shiro didn’t know what to say.  For once, words failed him.

Lonely?  Maybe.  Shunned?  No.  Shiro couldn't relate no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to help.

Ryou was shifting awkwardly in his seat.  He’d given away too much and he was under the eyes of too many people.

Keith got it.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was speaking.  “Me too,” Keith said.

Ryou looked up in surprise.  “ _You_?”

“I didn’t even have friends,” Keith said.  “The place I lived at, they forced me to go to this dance and dress up and everything and I literally sat alone in a corner the entire time.  I just watched others around me.  It _sucked_.”

“You didn’t have any friends with you there?”  Ryou leaned forward, genuinely confused.

Keith shook his head.  “It happens.  It’s fine.  There was no one there I liked.  And let me tell you, it’s such a small thing now, looking back.  Now look, I’m here with all of you and...I’ve never been happier.  The dance is the last thing bothering me.  They just weren't the right people.  And now I’ve found the ones who are.”

Ryou nodded thoughtfully.  “Yeah,” he said slowly.  “I guess it just happens sometimes, huh?”

Keith shrugged.  “You can’t expect to find your soulmate in the first place you look, can you?”

“Pretty sure they don’t need to be your _soulmate_ to dance with you,” Katie rolled her eyes.  “Anyone can dance together.  Friends even.  How about it?”  She asked, holding out her hand for Ryou.

“Us?”  Ryou rubbed the back of his head, smiling widely.  “Sure.  Why not?”

She dusted the pizza bits off on her dress as she stood.  The T.V. was blaring music that they had no problems dancing to, clasping hands and doing a little merry jig around the room, navigating around the furniture only semi-successfully.

“That’s sweet and all, but break her heart and I’ll kill you,” Matt called as Ryou and Katie cackled together.

“No one asked you, Keith...?”  Shiro asked quietly.  His brow was still furrowed with concern.

“Huh?”

“Your dance.”

“Oh, it was a long time ago.  Honestly, if someone _had_ asked me I probably would’ve flipped out on them anyway, so it’s probably for the best they didn’t.”

Shiro chuckled but his face was still thoughtful.  “Well, a bad day to be them.  They were all missing out.”

“ _Definitely_.  Let me remind you, I was way worse back then than I am now.”

“Worse?  Worse than what?  I think you’re good just the way you are.”  Shiro smiled down at him.  “Thanks for helping Ryou.  I kind of fumbled there.  I didn’t know what I could say that could help him...  What you said was perfect.”

Keith shrugged.  “I just happened to have a relatable story, that’s all.”

“You give yourself far too little credit...  If only you could see what I can see...”

Keith looked up at him, smile on his lips.  “Same goes to you.  I’m only joking about the sim, you know.  I still think you’re the better pilot.  Numbers don’t mean everything.”

Shiro shook his head, laughing under his breath.  “You’re definitely way better.”

“No, I really don’t think so.”

“Nope.  You’re better.”

“ _You_ are.”

“You are.”

“No,” Keith laughed.  “No, believe me.”

“I’ll believe you when you tell the truth.  But I know without a doubt that _you’re_ the better pilot.”

“That’s -”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Matt cut in.  “Stop it.  You're killing me here.  You’re both good, okay?  Prodigies, yeah?  Let’s leave it at that.”

Keith and Shiro stared each other down still, laughter pressed down on tight lips.

“You too, you know,” Shiro said.

Keith tilted his head.  “Hm?”

“What you said to Ryou about finding the right people.  You’re the right person too.”

Keith’s heart was so warm.

 

When Matt and Katie finally left for the night, Ryou nudged Shiro.

“When was the last time you took a shower?  You stink.”

“Ah, I didn’t throw up on you last night, did I?”  Keith cringed guiltily, rolling on the bed, where he was reading a textbook, to look over.

“It’s fine.  I think I rinsed most of it off.”

“Think again,” Ryou pinched his nose.

“Fine,” Shiro sighed. “I’ll take a quick shower.”

Shiro grabbed a set of clothes and then went into the bathroom.  The sound of the shower thudded on and then it was just the two of them again, but it was different from earlier so quickly, and Keith found he didn’t mind.

Ryou got up from the couch and tossed himself onto Shiro’s bed beside Keith.  He didn’t lay down beside him, just tilted his head and watched him curiously, like he was inspecting an animal or something.  “You’re good for him,” he said eventually.  “I didn’t think I’d see the day that I approved of anyone hanging around my brother, but I do.  Wherever he found you, I’m glad.”

Keith laughed, closing the book between both of his hands.  “He first found me punching the shit out of a group of our peers.  He was the one who stopped me, though I didn’t know it then.  And he’s just...has been helping me ever since.”

“Maybe your peers needed a bit of punching.”

“I’d say so.  But...your brother, he...  I want to try taking a card out of his book too.  Maybe not trying to solve everything with a fist to the face.”

“Yeah, maybe next time,” Ryou laughed.  He took in a deep breath, turning his face to the ceiling.  “I hope you figure out your nightmares.  Whatever they are.  That sucks.”

“...It’s Shiro,” Keith said softly.  He looked down at the lines in his palm, tracing them with a lone finger.  “I see him in my dreams, being hurt.  Maybe I’m just scared of being so close to someone.  Maybe it’s something else.”

“Shiro’s not the one to believe in the supernatural...  He's so straightforward.  But I don’t know.  Sometimes you just... _know_.”

Keith nodded, face twisted tight with concern and frustration.

“Whatever you might be thinking, I’m grateful for you.  Shiro too, I’m sure, even if he doesn’t ever say it.”

“No, he showers everyone in praise constantly.”  Keith rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

Ryou nodded, chuckling to himself fondly.  “He’s always been such a good person.  A good brother.  And it’s hurt me to see him struggling for so long, alone on this pedestal no one else could reach, smiling like he was actually happy up there.  I think it’s amazing you can surpass him, but even beyond that, I can tell it’s more.  I can see the way he looks at you.  How much he cares about you.  Even if you sucked at piloting, he would still care for you.  I believe that.”  He rubbed the back of his head, cheeks flaming red.  “I, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is...  I can’t do much on my own for him when I’m always in Japan.  And I get this feeling that, even if I lived here by his side, I still wouldn’t be able to brighten his days for him like you do.  You make him so bright.

“Stay close to him,” Ryou continued softly.  “I think whatever led you two together...I think that’s what it wants.”

Keith nodded slowly.  “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iverson comes in to wish Keith well as they're all sitting around boxfuls of pizza, playing a game of Uno. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE SICK??? SHIRO, HOW COULD LIE TO ME?" (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ THE BETRAYAL.
> 
> This was originally going to be combined with THE REAL chapter eight, but it became too long because I was enjoying them having fun, HAHA. WHAT CAN YOU DO?
> 
>  
> 
> [(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	9. Chapter 9

The next few weeks went by surprisingly quickly. Keith returned to his normal schedule, slowly easing into it. The ache in his arm didn’t go away, but the rest of the work for detention was easy and Shiro always came to visit, making the time pass by quickly.

Keith didn’t mention to Shiro that he would catch glimpses of Anthony or his friends during detention, only to see them flicker away when they noticed Shiro.  Shiro was his good luck charm, keeping both the nightmares and the bullies away.  What his time would be like at the Garrison without him, Keith didn’t want to know.

And, finally, after what seemed like years, detention was almost over, and, with it, so were Keith’s mentoring sessions.

“I know this is wrong to say,” Shiro said as Keith entered their room for the last time, plopping down in the seat in front of Shiro and pulling out his homework.  “But I’m kind of glad that you beat up Anthony and his friends.  Without this mentoring session, it would’ve been really hard to break through your armor.”

Keith couldn’t even be mad.  Yeah, he had armor.  “Me too.  It felt like the end of the world at the time, but meeting you was definitely worth it and then some.”

Shiro tilted his head, warm glow in his eye.  “I’m glad you think so.”

“Definitely, did you get pizza?  You know me too well.  I’d fight anyone for pizza.”

Shiro laughed, sitting up and shoving the pizza boxes at Keith.  “Pizza party for our last mentoring session together.  From now on, we’re not mentor and pupil.  We’re just Keith and Shiro.  Equals.  Not that we were ever anything but...”

“Mm,” Keith forced out around a mouthful of pizza.  “I just bumped you from second and third on the flight sim too.  So...equal?  Mmm...?”

Shiro pressed his smiling face into his hands, hiding a laugh.  “You are _so_...”

Keith smiled cheekily as Shiro struggled for words.  He gave up fighting it eventually, tapping the desk with a grin at Keith.

“- Amazing,” Shiro mumbled into his hand.  “Congratulations, Keith.  Though it’s starting to sound a bit redundant by now, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I dunno.  I like to hear it.”

An end to their mentoring sessions.

The next day, Keith worried about it, apprehensive that he might wind up like before again, friendless.  No Shiro, no Matt.  He didn’t think he could handle being alone again.

But Keith didn’t have any time to feel sad about it, because Shiro was busy hunting him down. Whether it be poking into Keith’s room, or summoning him over the watch on his arm that Shiro had set up himself, they spent all their spare time together.

Some days, Keith wouldn’t even go to his own dorm after class, letting his feet take him straight to Shiro’s.  He’d enter casually, sprawling out his books and homework over the sheets of Shiro’s bed as if it were his place too.  Shiro would just sit on the bed beside him.  It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

One afternoon, Keith found Shiro’s room empty - he was still teaching.  It was the day Keith found out that Shiro had set his door to unlock for Keith too, and his heart almost burst from happiness.

It was easy being friends. Or more than. Keith didn’t know.

The casual touches, the brushing of the hair, the playful nudges that felt like something more…Keith fell into the gestures as habit. Even Matt made a reference to them, but Shiro didn’t seem to mind, so neither did Keith, so they kept at it.

It was comforting. Like seeing a good friend after a really long vacation, only it always felt like that. Keith felt like he had known Shiro since forever and they were just two puzzle pieces fitting back into place together.

The pain in his arm eventually faded and disappeared and his dreams were peaceful, healing.  He almost forgot about them really.  Their silence made it easy to just disregard them as _only a dream._ His worries about Shiro being hurt faded to the back of his mind as _just his wild imagination, his deepest fears_.

When people glared at him, it used to get to him.  He had nowhere to recharge, no one to vent to.  It was different now.  Shiro was there, his little recharge station, the person who always knew just what to say whenever Keith was aggravated. Sometimes it seemed like Shiro knew more about Keith than Keith did himself.

Others could glare at Keith all they wanted.  They could say he didn’t belong in the Garrison or kick his stuff and wreck his papers.  They could do anything to him and Keith knew he’d be fine as long as he had Shiro.

It was the final period of the day and Keith hadn’t even finished putting his tablet back into his bag before he felt that warm presence try to sneak up behind him. It wasn’t hard to tell and it wasn’t just because of the chatter of the crowd (”oh, there he is, looking even more gorgeous today than ever”. Who else would they be talking about?), but he felt it. In his heart.

Soul mates.  Maybe he did believe in them after all.  He was going soft.

He turned around, smiling. “Is that a ninja I hear?”

“Dang. You got me,” Shiro sighed dramatically, but the corners of his lips pulled up in a crooked smile.

“Better luck next time, old man.  I could hear your joints crack from behind the door.”

“You’re lying,” Shiro said, playful hurt frown crossing his face.  And then, thinking about it.  “Wait. You’re lying, right?”

Keith snorted.  “I’m lying.”  He leaned against his desk and shrugged his bag over his shoulder.  “What’s up?”

Color slowly bled into Shiro’s cheeks as he began to wiggle around in embarrassment. “Remember that bakery that you wanted to go to by the arcade?  Weeeeell, I was thinking. It sounds good, right? You want to go still?”

Keith watched the blush in Shiro’s cheeks curiously. “Sure,” he shrugged. “We almost even have enough tickets for that gorilla finally.”

“We might be able to get it before Christmas,” Shiro hummed, still not able to look Keith in the eye.

“Katie didn’t really seem like a gorilla person to me though.”

“No…” Shiro hummed again, completely and utterly distracted. He bit his lip. “I was thinking…”

But Keith was distracted too. Shiro’s unease was attracting the attention of his lingering classmates like sharks to blood. This was Keith’s Shiro, awkward and human and rare - a special version of Shiro that belonged to him, not anybody else.

He frowned as they stared, the uneasiness clawing at him until it became too much and he grabbed Shiro by the hand and tugged him forward. “To your speeder?” Keith said.

“Um. Yeah. But - Keith - wait -”

“Just a sec.” He was on a mission.

“Uh...”

“I know, I know, I just want to get out of earshot of those people. They were making me uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Shiro said in surprise, turning around. “…I forget how people get to you sometimes.”

They were out of the main building, walking past the small strip of land that was officially called a garden, but was really just a few cacti that added a bit of green against the mostly brown settings. It was beautiful anyway, in its own way, proud and thriving.

Keith finally slowed down, letting go of Shiro’s hand. He turned, taking in a deep breath that he let fill his lungs and spread through his body.

It was always nice seeing Shiro, even if he had only just seen him not even two hours before at lunch. His black hair was always so shiny and clean, his forelock somehow looking artfully tousled even though Keith knew for a fact that Shiro only ran a brush through it once in the morning and that was it.  It was a gift.

“You wanted to say something?”

“I did,” Shiro confirmed, shaking his head slowly. That was all he did. The wind whistled. His mind seemed to be on pause.

Keith craned his neck. “Aaaand?”

“And… Well, I was thinking…”

There was that blush again, spreading across Shiro’s cheeks and peaking at the tips of his ears, making him look ten times younger than he ever did. He scratched the back of his head, shifting his jaw from side to side.

“I just…” The words hung on the tip of a hill, ready to barrel down, but he chickened out at the last second. Keith could see as the fight flung out of him and into open space. Shiro sighed, reaching up and patting Keith on the shoulder. “Let’s go to that bakery, hm?”

Keith arched an eyebrow. “You okay?”

Shiro nodded sharply before walking purposely past him and toward the hangar. “You’ve been practicing on the flight sim in the mornings, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, following behind him.  Shiro was eager, pulling ahead and running through the rest of the vehicles.  Keith already knew right where to go - they’d gone countless times so there was no need to chase Shiro down.  He called loudly, “Haven’t you seen my high score bumping higher and higher?”

“I already know what kind of smile you have on your face,” Shiro said from a distance. “And I am not answering you when you’re like that.”

Keith barked out a laugh, his head tossing back into the air.  “Like what?”

“Like a cat, staring you dead in the eye, inching its extended paw toward a full glass of water.”

Keith’s laughter bounced off all the metal in the hangar.  He peered around a vehicle and found Shiro already sitting on his speeder.  “There isn’t a glass of water around here.”

“I’ve seen your score,” Shiro said, raising an eyebrow in mock impatience, but his smile was so soft Keith knew better than to believe that eyebrow. “I can beat it.”

“Oh, can you?”

“No doubt.”

“Let’s see it then. I’m waiting. Every morning, my name is still at the top.”

Shiro laughed under his breath, flicking Keith on the nose. “Yes, you’re very good,” he said, teasing still in his tone, but the next second, he was softening - his smile, his eyes, his tone. He looked so warm and content. “You are very very good, Keith. The best pilot of the Garrison. I’m so proud of you.”

Keith rolled his eyes and tried to hide his embarrassment behind a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

Shiro let out a breathy laugh. “Here, son,” he said, holding up a glint of silver.

“Your speeder keys?” Keith asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he took them. He rolled them over in his fingers, trying to find the damage that Shiro wanted him to inspect. “I’m not good at fixing these, you know. Just because Matt said I was better than the average idiot at code, doesn’t mean -”

“No, it’s not broken,” Shiro rolled his eyes. He deliberately scooted onto the back of the seat, leaving the front seat wide open. He patted it. “I’m not technically supposed to let you drive it, but, well, you’re Keith, master of the flight sim.”

His eyebrows went high as he tried to think of what that meant. “Like…drive it out of the hangar?”

Shiro nodded his head slowly, locking eyes with Keith.

“And…letting you drive from there?”

Shiro shook his head.

“…Me? Have me drive?”

“Yes,” Shiro laughed and patted the seat again. “I trust you. Probably more than I trust me at this point.”

“Shiro…” Keith said faintly, still rolling the keys between his fingers. The smile and teasing was far gone. All that was left was uncertainly and that tugging in his stomach that he had just recently forgotten existed.  “I’ve never driven one of these things.  You could get in trouble if we’re caught.  I can’t possibly….”

“Sure you can. What blasphemy am I hearing? The prodigy fighter pilot Keith Kogane, backing down from a job?”

Keith tilted his head in exasperation. “This is a job, huh?”

“Uh-huh. We need cupcakes, stat. It’s very important.”

He pursed his lips, eyelashes thick and downcast as he thought.

Slowly, he walked up to the side of the bike and sat over it.

“There we go,” Shiro said softly.

“I’d better be getting paid like a million dollars or something.”

“Two million, in fact.”

“If we crash and die, it’s your fault.” Keith’s hands fit onto the handlebars in an attempt to get familiar. “It’s different than the flight sim,” he said.

“You aced the flight sim the first time.”

“…But it had no consequences.”

“It’s not a race,” Shiro said softly, scooting closer to Keith so that they fit together.

Keith closed his eyes tightly, but then jumped in surprise as Shiro gently placed his hands over Keith’s.

He was only helping to direct Keith, but it had the opposite effect.  All Keith could think about were Shiro’s big hands on him, warm, soft...

He bit his lip and tried to focus on deep breathing.

“Like that, yeah?”

Keith nodded quickly just to stop the demonstration before he really lost it. “Yes, good,” he choked out.

He could smell Shiro all too well.  He was clean, like his soap that Keith now knew, and heady - part of that magnetic pull, familiar to Keith.  Knowing that made him feel strange. Private almost, like they were sharing a secret.

He didn’t smell like an old man by a long shot.

Before enough time passed to embarrass him, Keith shook himself out of his thoughts.

He started the speeder up and repositioned his hands so his grip was firmer.

Just as smoothly as Shiro would do it, he pulled them out of the hangar and onto the sandy road.

“Perfect, as always,” Shiro hummed in approval.  The feel of him behind Keith, sturdy and tall flat against his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, made Keith feel safe.  He didn’t make any mistake as he drove.  He was careful, trying to make sure that he could uphold Shiro’s trust he had so generously given out.

It felt all too soon that they made it to the long stretch of shops.  Keith pulled in and let out a deep breath.

“See?”  Shiro said, patting Keith’s leg encouragingly.  “Easy for you.”

“Yeah,” Keith admitted.

“Fun?”

Keith smiled.  “Fun.”

The cafe was small but in a quaint sort of way. Keith had never been there and, not having much experience in places of luxury, didn’t understand most of the menu.  It was embarrassing.  He felt like a complete idiot as he stared down at the choices. The little boy a table away knew what to get but he didn't.  This was supposed to be common knowledge; simple.

Shiro worded his order off effortlessly and then turned expectant happy eyes to Keith who mumbled a, “uh, I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

Shiro just smiled encouragingly.

Something so seemingly small, but that act of acceptance made Keith blush all over.

“They have a lot of good things here,” Shiro explained, poking at the menu as he turned it to show Keith.  “You’ll want to try them all.  The mocha for instance, I swear it has your name all over it.  If you’re not a mocha person, so help me...my entire life has been a lie.”

Keith laughed into his hand and shrugged.  “Maybe I’ll try it next time.”

“Have you had coffee before?”

Keith shook his head.

“Oh...  We might want to get some cream and sugar with that.”  Shiro chuckled softly.  They talked for awhile in the warmth of the cafe.  It was as sweet and inviting as Keith had imagined.  He thought they’d just try a few things and leave to go about their normal days as always.

But then Shiro started losing focus, shifting, the air changing with him.  The warm smile twitched with anxiousness as he shrugged his shoulders.  Worry settled in his brow.

Keith watched for a while, sipping on the coffee that he really didn’t understand, before he finally asked, “...You okay?”  

Shiro blinked like he was sneaking his hand into the cookie jar and just got caught.  “Oh, uh, yeah.  All’s good, but I, uh...  I invited you out here for a reason.  I want to tell you something.”  He kept his eyes on the napkin folded on the table for a long moment before he picked it up and messed with it, pressing his finger against the crease.  “You know Kerberos? The moon that orbits Pluto.”

Keith coughed into his hand, trying to hide a laugh. “Uh…yeah, I think I know of it.”

“Oh,” Shiro blushed. “Right. Mr. Big Shot over here.”

“Continue,” Keith said patiently, leaning into the table and pressing Shiro onward with his eyes.

“Have you heard Iverson talking about the Kerberos mission?”

“No.”

“Weeell, it’s supposed to be this big deal.  No one has gone that far before.  And to be chosen would be a huge honor.  Matt’s dad will be in charge and he’s going to lead a team all the way there to collect ice samples from Kerberos’ surface. They’re going to test it for forms of life.   _Alien_ life.  Cool, huh?”

“Very.”

“They need a pilot. I was thinking of applying… Matt is too, of course. He’s already filled it all out. I mean, he’s a shoe-in. He’s a genius and his dad is leading, so…”

He looked up at Keith through his eyelashes, something nervous and vulnerable on his face.

Keith swallowed hard, already knowing where this was going, already preparing and trying to steel himself to do the right thing, forgoing his own selfishness. “How long will the mission be?”

His voice dipped low. “Awhile. It’ll take about five months to get there and then, once we’re there it could be a few months, and the traveling back, of course...”  He cleared his throat roughly and pursed his eyebrows.  He angled himself so that he and Keith were facing each other head on, both holding onto the other’s gaze.  

He murmured lowly, “...It could be a year, maybe more and besides official communication, I won’t be able to contact anyone else here on earth...  But Mr. Holt is certain we’ll find valuable information there. I don’t really know much about it from that aspect, but to be the first pilot on a mission this scale is…you know what it’s like.  It's the furthest anyone has ever gone.  To say it’s a big deal is an understatement. I’d…I mean, this is what we came here for.  To be up in the stars.  To make the impossible possible.”

Keith was quiet. The server came by with more food, setting down baked goods in front of them and refilling their coffee. It gave Keith a moment to breathe. He could hear the question in Shiro’s voice, the one he couldn’t ask.  But Keith couldn’t address it either.  Silence hung around them.  

“…And?”  Keith asked softly eventually.  He curled his hands around the warm coffee.

“…You’d be alone,” Shiro breathed. He leaned forward, but was frowning down into the table, eyes falling from Keith’s. “Matt and I would both be gone for awhile. I just… With your dreams and-and…everything else.”  His eyes closed heavily as he whispered across the table, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly. Dammit, no. He regretted asking almost immediately. He could feel that selfish instinct rising up, the small lonely part of his soul that had a hand in the depths of his heart, crying out loudly to the light, _no_.

He cleared his throat. Closed his eyes. Shoved it all down.  Shiro had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, and now it had come.  To take it from him would be beyond cruel.  “That’d be great for you, Shiro,” he said, trying to sound honest. “You were born for this. You were led to the Garrison for this. All the hard work you’ve done, all the records you’ve conquered all led to this.  If you’re asking for my permission, you don’t need it. You’ll be brilliant.”

“...But…”

Keith shook his head sharply, cutting him off.  “I’ll miss you. You know that. Of course I will. But I’ll be fine.  I always have been.  And…I won’t be far behind. Maybe when you get back, I’ll be ready to be your co-pilot. And next mission we can go on together.”

Keith felt brave enough to look up. A small smile was growing on Shiro’s lips, who was watching Keith hesitantly from beneath shy lashes. “Yeah?   _You_ would want to be _my_ co-pilot?”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, looking into the black void in the mug he was clasping onto. “Though I dunno, give me that much time and I might have surpassed you too much. I’ll be the one mentoring you.”

Shiro laughed.  “Probably.  But keep in mind that on-field experience probably trumps flight sim experience.”

“Bouncing off rocks in space won’t count as experience.”

“Hey!  I’ll have you know I was the best pilot at the Garrison at one point. Until _someone_ had to come along and beat all my scores,” he mock griped.

Keith laughed softly, hands still clasped tightly to his mug.  He was smiling but there was a strange fluttering beneath his ribcage that was starting to pull and hurt.

“I will miss you,” came out of him before he could stop it. It was soft and vulnerable in a way that he didn’t want Shiro to ever hear. “I want you to kick ass up there, but I… I’ll miss you.”

When he looked up, the expression on Shiro’s face was complex and new. Hollow almost. Wounded. Keith could read what Shiro’s parted lips were afraid to say, _If you asked, I’d stay._

“Turn in the application,” Keith said firmly, flicking his gaze away quickly. “I’ll help you fill it out if you want. You’re going to be amazing.”

Shiro huffed out a laugh. “You can see the future now too, hm? I’m not surprised.”

“No, it’s not that. I know because you’re already amazing.”

A small breath caught audibly in Shiro’s throat and he looked up at Keith sharply in surprise.

Keith put on a crooked smile. “Like it’s news to you…”

“…Thanks, Keith,” Shiro whispered. He swallowed hard, his face wrinkling in a funny way.  He shook himself before it could develop further, clearing his expression and the vulnerability in his stance.  “You won’t be far behind, I promise you.  You have so much raw talent.  Promise me you won’t let it go to waste.  Stay in school.  Work hard.  Don’t get into fights.”

Keith laughed and Shiro frowned.

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning forward.  “The others at school want to try to take it away from you; don’t let them.  Don’t give them what they want.  You’ve fought so hard to get here and you’re a _star_.  Promise me you won’t fight.”

“Okay, okay,” Keith laughed, holding his hands in the air in surrender.  “I won’t fight.  I’ll be good so you won’t have to worry when you go on your superman mission.  You can rest assured I’ll behave _perfectly_.”

“I want to see you up in space with me, got it?”

“I got it.  You and me.  I promise.”

Shiro’s eyes shined brilliantly.  “Yeah...”  He straightened, tapping his finger at the food on the table. “Now try one of everything!  It’s on me.  I want to know your favorite.”

Keith grimaced, shaking his head.  “There’s way too much!”

“You’re a teenage boy. Teenage boys eat.”

“Like an old man like you could remember.”

“You are going to get it.”

Keith laughed, but he reached out for the first pastry and took a bite.  Immediately, his face soured.  “Ugh, I don’t like this at all,” he grumbled around a mouthful of it.

He took a big mouthful of his coffee and he cringed even harder.  “God!”  he choked.

Shiro laughed openly.  “You forgot the cream and sugar.  Here,” he said, passing it over.

They were there for a long time.

Strawberry turned out to be his favorite, which made Shiro laugh. Keith thought that it wouldn’t take much to make Shiro laugh though. He was always in high spirits and even moreso whenever Keith ate anything.

“My stomach hurts,” Keith grumbled as they walked out of the cafe and back to the speeder.

“Don’t be such a baby. You ate like a bird.”

“If a bird can eat non-stop for an entire hour, then sure.  A very stuffed uncomfortable bird.”

Shiro chuckled. “I’m sorry. There might be something to help your stomach at the market, want to go?”

“Nah,” Keith murmured, looking over at the arcade. “I’m feeling lucky today though.”

“Time for that gorilla, hm?” Shiro shrugged his shoulders against the cold and looked up at the sky. The stars were peeking out by then. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go back? It’s getting late.”

“Aww, come on,” Keith pleaded, grabbing Shiro’s arm and tugging him toward the open entryway. “I don’t have any tests or homework due and I know you don’t have anything tomorrow either because I checked.”

“You looked through my schedule?”  Shiro snorted, pretending to be offended as he let himself be dragged into the arcade.  “Gosh, I remember the first time you came into my room.  You were too nervous to even look at anything but the floor, let alone casually go through my confidential files as if you own the place.”

“I’m not so sure that your mentoring schedule is considered confidential, but yeah.  The nervous thing was back when I thought you were actually the Garrison golden boy.”  He reached into his pockets and found some straggling coins.  The game beeped to life as he shoved coins into it.

Shiro was smiling.  “And what am I to you now?  Pond scum?”

Keith laughed.  “Shiro.  You’re just Shiro.”

“And this game too,” Shiro said with warm fondness in his voice.  “You’ve learned your way around it finally.”

“We play it enough,” Keith grunted, his entire focus on the game as he frowned into its bright light.  He was winning since that’s what Keith did.  He won.

“I’ve played this thing for years and haven’t gotten any better.  Oh!  You got it!!”

The game blared its victorious tune.

Keith grinned victoriously, snapping the winner tickets out of the machine.  “Ha!  Look at this.  I’m so close.”

“Matt will cry probably.”  He laughed and then leaned his head back, yawning widely.  “I’m tired.  Can we call it a night?”

“Two more?”

“Two more,” Shiro agreed, sliding down the front of the game beside Keith’s legs and leaning his head onto him.  Keith patted his head tenderly once before returning to the game.  

By the time Keith was finished, Shiro had drifted off.  Keith poked him awake.  

“Look,” Keith said, shoving a large plushie in his face.

“Hm?”  Shiro sniffed, rubbing his eyes.  His face went from droopy and tired to bright and excited in two seconds flat.  “The gorilla!  You did it!”

“You helped.  We even had leftover tickets because they were having a deal today.  So, I, um…  I got you something with them.”

Shiro blinked again, opening his eyes wider.  “Huh?”

“Here,” Keith said, swallowing hard as he pulled a lion plushie from behind his back.  It was red and cute.  Very huggable.  “I remember you mentioning lions, so…”

Shiro laughed, taking it into his hands. “It’s perfect.  Hey, it kinda looks like you,” he said, holding it up beside Keith’s face for comparison.  Keith playfully swatted it away.  “I love it.  Thanks.”

Keith was bright red as he muttered, embarrassed,  “’Welcome.”

“You have more tickets?” Shiro pointed to the ones hanging from Keith’s pocket.  “What’re you going to do with the rest of them?”  Shiro asked.

“I dunno.  Give them to Matt?  Though some of them are yours.”

“Can I have mine?”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith said, fishing them out of his pocket.  

Shiro took them with a grin, hopping to his feet and saying, “be right back.”

Keith watched as Shiro bounced over to the ticket counter and spoke with the man there, pointing to the collection of prizes on the wall.  

He came back with another lion, black instead of red.  

“Black, like your soul,” Shiro laughed, holding it out to Keith.

Keith let out a surprised laugh.  “For me?”

“It felt right somehow.  You like it?”

Keith grabbed it with awkward hands.  He was a newborn fawn first standing on wobbly legs.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a present.  Maybe the knife that his father had left behind after he’d died, that Keith had taken just because there was no one coming back to return for it.  And that wasn’t a gift, that was lonely and cold.

“Thank you,” Keith said faintly.  

“Yeah, of course.  …You okay?”  Shiro tilted his head.

Keith nodded sharply and swallowed around a hard lump in his throat.  “I like it.”

“...I’m glad, Keith.  Ready to go?”

“Um, yeah, but...”  He fidgeted.  The emotions inside of him were bouncing all around, confusing him.  He was so not ready, but when would he ever be?  He just knew he would never be as fond of anyone as he was of Shiro.

Before he could think about it and chicken out, Keith went with his gut feeling and stood on the tips of his toes.  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Shiro's cheek.

Shiro blinked in surprise, hand flying the spot as Keith pulled away, rolling onto the backs of his heels and watching Shiro’s face cautiously.

He worried for nothing; though Shiro’s eyes were wide with shock at first, they slowly melted into the biggest warmest smile Keith had ever seen.  “ _Keith_.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith murmured softly, threading his bangs back behind his ear nervously.  “Let’s get back, hm?”  He turned and tried to walk like a normal person out the door.

Shiro followed him out, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

Keith drove again; he liked the freedom.  He liked the feeling of someone trusting him, believing in him, and being able to fulfill that trust.  Not betray it.

Shiro held onto his small waist with his big hands and leaned, head tilted back toward the stars with his eyes closed and his mouth smiling.  His hair blew wildly in the wind and he let it, not bothering to try to soothe it back in place.

 

Next morning, even his roommate remarked on how Keith looked better.  Keith was trying to be a better person overall, engage when others were trying to engage, be polite when others were being polite.  Shiro had been helping him with all that.  And, as Shiro had said, his roommate had been good to him, so Keith forced himself a small nod and a “yeah, thanks”.  His voice was neutral, no hint of malice.  He thought it went over pretty nicely.  It felt like an achievement anyway.  And his roommate had grinned.

He wasn’t even late to his first period class, but he was having difficulty concentrating, his head full of Shiro.

There was that overwhelming fondness that had Keith feel totally and completely smitten, but it was getting even more out of hand than that.  It was winding with ideas and hopes for the future.  After Kerberos, Keith would be ready to pilot too.  Co-pilots.  Him and Shiro traveling the universe together, flying side by side, doing the thing they loved most next to the person they loved most.

Love.

Keith shied away from the word even as it ran through his head.  A vague feeling, not an actual word.  It was too soon.

Or was it?

Keith bit the end of his pen, gazing distantly at the board, his mind full of one thing only.  

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t even notice people staring at him.  Not that people staring was a thing he wasn’t used to already.  Glares mostly.  What was new?

No, Keith didn’t care about them.  He wandered through the hallways with blissful ignorance.  He couldn’t wait until lunch, when he’d get to see Shiro again.  His head was in the clouds.

Until a hand clapped down on his shoulder in the hallway, effectively scaring the crap out of him.

It was just Matt, taking a quick step backward as Keith whirled on him, his hands up in forfeit.  “Jeez.  Sorry.  I forgot you react like an angry bear whenever you’re touched.”

“Sorry,” Keith let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I don’t like being snuck up on.”

“Duly noted.”

“What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve been…noticing.”

“Noticing?”  Keith arched an eyebrow and put a hand on his hip.

Matt squirmed uncomfortably, casting his eyes around at the students passing by.  “…Just watch for a moment.”

Keith did.  Glares here and there, but how was that different from usual?  He shrugged at Matt.

“Look,” Matt sighed heavily, like he was able to deliver the worst news possible.  “You know how popular Shiro is.”

Keith’s frown deepened.  “Who doesn’t?”

“And you know he has like…probably twenty different fan clubs that most likely have creepy shrines in their closets.”

“Okay.  And?”

“So I’m just saying…  Some people saw the both of you together last night.  And the gossip’s pretty bad.  I’ve heard a lot of anger.  Some people are downright furious.  I heard one girl saying she was going to murder you, find a nice hole in the desert, and bury your body where no one can find you.”

Keith’s nose crinkled in distaste.  “She sounds lovely.”

“…I’m not going to tell Shiro.  He’s over the moon right now, and if I were to mention it to him, to the degree I’ve heard, he’d get upset.  He doesn’t want you getting hurt over him.  He’d never want that.”

“People don’t usually like me, so I can’t imagine things’ll be that different.”

“Just watch out.  They don’t see Shiro as Shiro, they see him as this untouchable god.  And if a god chooses a human, well, what do you think they’re going to do with said human?”

Keith laughed, amused.  “People suck.”

“They do, they totally do.  Just be careful, please.  …That’s all I’m going to say.  I don’t want to ruin your day either.  And also: congratulations.”  A small smile was there on Matt’s face, touching his eyes.  “You two have been pining over each other for so dang long, it’ll be nice to not have to pretend anymore.”

Keith snorted, but felt heat creep up his neck.  “Thanks…”

“And I guess I sort of owe you an apology for the way I treated you in the beginning.  Shiro is...  You know Shiro.  He’ll trust anyone.  I get protective over him sometimes.  I worry people will take advantage of his good nature.”

“No, I’m glad you care about him so much.  I would've done the same.  It’s all good.  You don’t need to apologize.”

Matt threw his arm around Keith’s shoulders as they walked down the hallway together.  “I do, though.  I threw you into the same bag as everyone else, but I was wrong.  I think you’ll be good for Shiro.  You see through the bullshit that Shiro doesn’t.  He needs that.  And he needs someone loyal to him, not just…because he’s some sort of god in their mind.  Get me?”

Keith smiled, small and warm inside.  Matt was trusting him with Shiro.  It felt like some sort of blessing.  “I get it.  But you know, you’re kind of jumping the gun.  I don’t even think we’re officially dating.”

Matt snorted, pressing his lips together tightly in a valiant attempt to not laugh harder.  “Better tell him that.”

When they opened the doors of the cafeteria, there was Shiro, waiting antsily at their usual table.  He jumped to his feet, waving his hand in the air excitedly, unable to keep the glow from his face.

“See what I mean?”  Matt hummed in amusement.  He pushed off of Keith, clapping his hand to his back.  “Lunch is on me today.  I’ll even deliver.  What do you want?”

“Uh…”  Keith’s mind was buzzing with Shiro.  He felt that magnetic pull and it was boggling his thoughts as he tried to focus.

Matt took pity on him.  “I’ll bring whatever.  Go get him.”

Keith all but ran, his heart fluttering in apprehension and something fresh, something new.  He grinned up at Shiro, who looked very much like he wanted to pull out a chair for him, but the benches were secured to the table.  He grinned brightly.  “Hey.”

Shiro smiled too.  “Hey.”  

It was a relief to be together, like they’d been holding their breath all day in the other’s absence.  It was easy to talk to each other, fluid and seamless.  Even despite Matt’s warning, Keith let the rest of the world melt away from their attention.  It was impossible not to when the sun was burning brilliantly at his side, all attention on him, muttering soft kind words.  Keith must’ve been in heaven.

He used to curse the stars.  He had always believed that they were there, listening, but not caring, and that was what got him.  But it was different suddenly.  Maybe patience had been the answer.  Maybe they were crafting the perfect answer to his pleas and Shiro was it, here, waiting for Keith all this time.

Keith could believe that.  Because being with Shiro felt like a gift from the gods.

Everything that had seemed like a chore, that Keith had glared at with analytical coldness, was now fun and exciting.  He couldn’t wait to break more records in the flight sim or ace another test; he’d run right to Shiro to celebrate together.  And when shitty things happened - say he forgot his homework or hadn’t studied - he had someone to confide in, someone to vent to.  

Everything Keith had ever wanted.  Everything he had never had.  Everything Keith had asked for.  And more.

That night, like most of his recent nights, he went to sleep with a smile on is face, not afraid to face slumber.  He felt good.  He felt confident.

It felt different immediately.  Different from any he had had since the nightmare.  White.  Just white static.  The air was cold and muffled, sharp in its feel but dull in its emptiness.

It was…strange.  Hollow somehow.  

In front of him, in the distance, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.  Keith walked to it hesitantly, footsteps cracking sharply through quiet space.

He bent and brought it up with him.

Nonsensical words.  He frowned, crumpling it up and tossing it away.

“Hello?”  He asked.  The emptiness brought him a sense of great unease that he just couldn’t shake.

“Shiro?”  He called, but his voice didn’t even echo.  It was sucked into the static.

Sighing, he turned on his heel to explore in some other direction, when the white twisted, mixing with black, pulling him forward and through.

A new space.  Outside?  The pavilion, maybe…  It was dark and everything was twisted.

There was the sound of something loud - a crack maybe - and then everything was quiet.

He woke up slowly, a weight on his chest and a dull ache at the base of his skull.

Peeling himself off of his bed, he blinked groggily at the light streaming through a crack in the doorway.

Frowning was his default face, but when his roommate slipped through and turned, their eyes met and he tried to pull his features into something more pleasant.  He tried to actually see him.  Shiro would.  Shiro would be friendly and kind and patient and Keith wanted to be even just a sliver of that.

“Sorry, man,” his room mate said.

“It’s…it’s fine,” Keith muttered.  It was forced and awkward on his tongue, but he had pried it out of himself - a reply, and he thought that maybe he should be proud of that.

But it was so stupid and minor that he blushed immediately at the thought and thanked god that his room mate had closed the door and the light was dim again.

“Oh!”  His room mate chirped happily.  “You talk!”  He stumbled around the room on one foot as he bent over and tried to tug his shoe off.  “So.  You and Shiro, huh?”

Keith nodded slowly.  

“For real?”  He squawked, toppling over, shoe still securely on his foot.  He shoved himself up with wide surprised eyes.  “I thought it was just a rumor.  Oh man, wait until I tell Hunk.”

The blush was blooming in full force, but it was nice almost, like talking with Matt or Shiro.  It wasn’t like his roommate had ever been cruel to him.  In fact, he had done a lot for Keith despite Keith’s unfriendliness.  That meant a lot.  

He really ought to either thank or apologize to him.  

He opened his mouth, not sure which one he’d try, when his roommate started blabbing excitedly into his phone in low hushed tones.

Well.  It was fine.  It wasn’t like Keith even remembered his name anyway.  He’d have to ask Shiro for it later.  It’d just be plain awkward to ask after all this time of living in the same room together.

He mostly forgot about his dream the next morning.  It wasn’t until he opened his locker and spotted an unfamiliar slip of paper that it hit him.  The note was sitting innocently on the top of his books.  He stared it down.  Why he would have a dream of this, he had no idea.  It wasn’t like his normal ones.  As he thought about it, a group of students went past and the wind caught it, blowing it away into the middle of the hall.

Keith shoved his locker door closed and pursued it, stepping out of people's way in order not to be trampled on.  

He snatched it up and read it immediately in the middle of the hallway.

 

_I have something of Shiro’s.  If you want it back, you won’t tell anyone.  You’ll meet me alone in the pavilion.  Bring anyone and I’ll destroy it._

 

He frowned into the note.  It was obviously a trap.  Most likely Anthony.  He really ought to tell Shiro at least.

It’d be dumb to just walk into it.

But the note said it had something of Shiro’s.  Keith tried to remember if Shiro had mentioned anything important missing recently.  He couldn’t think of anything, but it didn’t mean it was a lie.

He would just be quick.  Really quick.  He’d get back whatever was stolen from Shiro and be back before lunch ended.  He didn’t want to tell Shiro about this - about any of it - and have him worry.  Shiro didn’t deserve it.  Keith could handle it for him, the shadow to Shiro’s light.

That made up his mind.

He crinkled the paper, tossed it away, and began to stride off.

“Keith!”  Matt called out from down the hallway.  “Hey-o!  Wait up!”

“Matt,” Keith grit out, eyes flicking back to the way to the pavilion.  “I’ve got something to do really quickly.”

“I can go with you.”

“Not that quickly.”

Matt was panting slightly, having run down the hallway to meet up with Keith.  He frowned, recognizing the dismissal.  “You okay?”

He rolled his eyes.  “You’re starting to sound like Shiro honestly.  Have you ever thought I wouldn’t be okay?”

“Maybe when you were wandering around the desert like a ghost…”  He tried to laugh, but the attempt fell off his face as he watched Keith’s face.

Keith rolled his eyes even more dramatically hoping it’d disturb Matt enough to leave.  “I’ll meet you guys in a minute.”

“…Right,” Matt agreed hesitantly, but he stayed where he was and didn’t follow when Keith left, so that was a victory.

He didn’t want Matt to get caught up in this.  Father head of the Kerberos mission or not, they just didn’t need any strife associated with his name.

And if this was who he thought it was, he didn’t want Matt getting hurt.  Matt was fiercely loyal, but a tech geek, not a fighter, and Keith didn’t want to see that in action.

He pushed the door open, eyes narrowing around the empty pavilion.  

 _Don’t go inside_ , he knew Shiro would say.  He huffed and strode in anyway, glancing around.

The Garrison was mostly sleek and impersonal, but it had its places.  The garden was one thing Keith liked, and the pavilion was another.  It was outside and hot during the day so not many came by in the summer.  In the winter, it was just habit to avoid it.  

Keith walked into the center carefully, hands in his pockets, waiting.

And they came.  Like rats slipping out of the woodwork, they slipped from corners and behind shadowed doors like some horrible nightmare.

He wasn’t going to let Anthony scare him.  He was going to win this fight.

_Promise me._

Keith took in a deep breath.  He could win a different way.  No fighting.  For Shiro, he’d behave.  Pride or Shiro.  The choice was obvious.  He wasn’t going to _be_ that person anymore.

Anthony was there, heading the pack of wild dogs, his face holding onto a coolness that didn’t meet the fire in his eyes.  “Keith Kogane.  Prodigy first year.  Best this place has ever seen.”

Carefully, Keith kept his face bored as he stared back head on.  

Anthony wasn’t patient.

“So you and Shiro,” he said, voice tipped in venom and oozing with hatred, like Shiro had once been his.

But Keith knew that he had not.

He rose one carefully unapologetic eyebrow.  “What about it?”

Anthony walked with control from his pack, his protection.  He drew his words out slowly, eyes always focused and narrowed on Keith.  “I’ve always wondered what makes people ‘great’.  Is it practice?  Is it hard work?  Good teachers?  Intuition?  I thought if I worked hard, I’d get places.  I’ve been working hard for years.  Everyone here has.”

He stopped in front of Keith’s face, a foot apart.  Keith didn’t move.  

“And you come in,” he said softly.  “And you just happen to be this prodigy fighter pilot with no prior experience.  No prior experience?  And you’re breaking Shiro’s scores?  Are you fucking kidding me?”

Keith bit back the longest sigh and eye roll yet.  This was getting so old he was almost disappointed.  To come out for this, when it wasn’t even anything new or exciting.  It was so stupid.  Was this what Keith’s fights had looked like when he was at the orphanage?  Just immature desperation and nowhere good to vent it?

“You beat _Shiro’s_ scores without any previous experience?  How is anyone expected to believe that?  You get perfect scores in class but you have no time to actually study for the tests?  Do you think I’m _stupid_?  Do you think anyone is buying this shit?  We all know what it is, don’t we?  So admit it.”

Keith shrugged.  “Admit what?  That you just suck and can’t get over it?”

Dammit.  Keith cringed inside immediately.  Shiro would not have said that.  Shiro would try to diffuse the situation...somehow.

“No,” Anthony said, face cold.  “I want you to say it to my face.  We all know how.  I want you to at least give your fellow Garrison students the _truth_ .  You owe us that much.   _Admit it_.”

“I’ve never been in a sim before the Garrison.  I had no money and no resources.  I just studied hard.  It’s just something inside of me.”

Anthony let out a small laugh, tilting his head back and shaking his head.  “No, it’s not hard work that gets you anywhere, it’s not luck like you’re pretending it to be, it’s something else.  You slept your way up.  Climb the ladder like a filthy whore.  You’re nothing but a disgusting slut.”

Keith’s eye twitched. Shiro’s soft plea - _promise_ \- held him strong.  

He’d been called a whore before.  It wasn’t uncommon.  With his big eyes, thick eyelashes, and dainty face, he’d been a popular target of many tiring slurs.  

“Think what you want,” Keith shrugged.  “Shiro’s not missing anything, so if that’s all you had to say, then consider me disappointed.”

“He isn’t, _is he_ ?  Did you ask him that?  Maybe you’re not as close as you thought.  Not my problem.” Anthony bit out.  “But you think that stunt you pulled last time was funny?  Hurting your fellow students and laughing over their mangled bodies?  To think that Iverson allowed you to get away with such despicable behavior.  You’re a plague in a place as distinguished as the Garrison; you’re making a mockery of it.  I guess you’re leading Iverson around by the nose, and Shiro too, but the rest of us see you for what you really are and we’ve all gathered to witness our deserved justice: you _taken down_.”

 _Don’t fight,_ Keith could hear Shiro commanding.   _Run_.  But the wolves were closing in.

Keith narrowed his eyes, assessing them all, looking for his way out.  

He wasn’t used to running.  He didn’t know how.  There were just objects in his way, getting closer, that were becoming more and more of an urgent matter to remove.

“Your bewitched fool of a boyfriend can’t save you now, Kogane,” Anthony said, voice running like silk, dipped in amusement.  He stood behind, hands casually crossed at his chest as he watched.

He just let his dogs run free.

“Always letting your pack fight for you,” Keith laughed loudly.  “That’s why you’ll never be the one breaking records.”

“Wait,” Anthony said sharply, holding his hand up like some super villain.  “Stop…”

All of his focus was zeroed in on Keith’s face, eyes narrowed in lasers.  “You think you can beat me in a fight?”

Keith choked back a laugh, genuinely confused.  These sort of people were the easiest to take down.  Pride first, logic later.  “Haven’t I already?”

Red blossomed across Anthony’s face.  Rage.  He held it down tightly, but his hands were shaking as he tried to cram them into a picture of ease.  “That was just luck.”

“Why don’t I believe you?  You’re so worried about justice?   _I_ was the one who knocked _you_ out.”

Anthony drew in a deep breath through is nose, nostrils flaring.  His pupils were dilated as he advanced, steps sharp and direct.  “I’ll show you then,” he growled, voice low and filled with ice.

Keith chuckled softly, grounding his feet, waiting.

Here was the plan: he probably wouldn’t get in trouble if he didn’t fight back, right?  It was all he could think of.  He could dodge.  He was fast enough for that.  He could slip away from Anthony until the little rat tired himself out.

And it worked out for awhile.  Anthony was not a fighter by any means and it was almost comical that he continued to try.  His rage at his own inadequacy only grew and grew.  A sloppy punch here that Keith stepped away from.  A kick that made Anthony trip.  Keith hardly had to do anything.

He could feel the discontent building from Anthony’s friends and knew it would not be long before something changed.

Anthony was already spent, his shoulders sagging forward, panting.

Keith was perfectly fine, not even having broken a sweat.  “I don’t want to fight.  I _never_ wanted to fight.  You focus on your thing and I’ll focus on mine.  Just leave me the hell alone.”

The door was there, in his sight, and so he turned to leave before any of them could decide what to do.

He was going to completely avoid a fight and he felt proud of himself...for a moment.

“Your boyfriend did it too, you know,” Anthony called.  “He was worse than even you.”

Keith turned slowly.  “Excuse me?”

“Your perfect Shiro.  Your little _innocent flower_ .  Why do you think they bought him a speeder?  That much money for one student?  Why would Iverson even need a teacher’s assistant?  How do you think he convinced Iverson off your back?  Gave you a _day off_.”

Keith’s voice was thunder and lightning in one, striking down hard on this mortal earth.  “ _How_?!”

Anthony let out a high laugh, the sound almost delirious.  “What do you think they _do_ in Iverson’s office together?  Play cards?  Stop kidding yourself.  Shiro’s on his knees sucking his dick, that’s what.  Every little -”

Keith didn’t even know what he was doing, but suddenly, his foot was cracking across Anthony’s face, blood flying across the pavilion.

Anthony was knocked back, his friend racing forward to catch him, gasping scandalously as if Keith had attacked him out of nowhere.

Anthony just laughed, blood pouring out of his nose.  “You’re mad because you know it’s true!  He’s cheated his way to the top by letting everyone fuck him like the filthy slut he is.”

Keith couldn’t get ahold of himself.  He was reeling at the filth coming out of Anthony’s mouth.  He knew Shiro, the goodness in Shiro, how soft and how sweet Shiro was.  Shiro had saved him with gentle tender hands.  He had seen the ugliness in Keith and didn’t look away from it, but weaved it into something else, something gentler, something akin to good.

Shiro had done that.

And to hear someone say something so wrong, so against everything Shiro with his noble intentions was was more than Keith could bear.

Shiro was a genius.  Through his hard work and determination he’d gotten to where he was, not...not what Anthony was saying.

He forgot himself.  He forgot his promise.  He forgot his intentions.  He forgot he had wanted to change.

All he wanted was to shut Anthony the fuck up so he could never say such awful things again.  He wanted to beat that smug laughter off of his ugly face.  He would go down trying if it came to it.

This was familiar to him.  It was almost his comfort as a child.  Fight, win, and achieve peace.

Anthony pushed himself from his friend and forward.  “What a legacy,” Anthony said, staring Keith down.  “A slut and his whore, the heroes of the Galaxy Garrison.  The pride of our country.”

“Don’t you ever talk about Shiro again,” Keith screamed, running forward.  He threw himself into the punch with as much force as he could muster.  But he was yanked back.  

Three of Anthony’s friends had him by the arms, holding him in place.

Fuck no.

He felt the rage in him like actual flames.  It gave him a strength that surprised even him, making it possible to wriggle out from their hold and slip from them like the wind.

And he punched Anthony right in the stomach.  Keith managed to knock the air from him, and Anthony stumbled backward, falling to his butt with an awful wheezing sound.

Keith wanted to hurt him so badly.  But he had to end it.  He tightened his fist and threw himself into one last punch.

“Keith!” A panicked voice rang out through the pavilion that he did not expect.  It was close.

“Shiro,” he whispered, turning his head toward the call, fight immediately forgotten.  Blood lust drained out of him.  

He heard the crack before he felt it.  Anthony’s fist came down hard on the side of his head.  Keith was caught unaware and sent flying into the ground.  He could feel the pain in his jaw as he grit his teeth.  Then, there was exploding pain elsewhere as a foot came jamming down onto his hand.  

Primal instinct made Keith lunge at him, his other hand reaching back to the knife in his belt.

Strong firm hands clasped his into place.  It was Shiro.  Roughly, he jammed Keith into the ground.

“What are you doing?”  Shiro breathed into his ear, winded and furious.  “What are you _doing_?!”

Keith grunted under Shiro’s weight, arms stuck in place.  He was helpless, unable to move.  “Get off!”  He fought aggressively, kicking and trying to squirm free.

“I won’t,” Shiro breathed, shoving his weight down harder until Keith cried out, finally letting go of the knife.  

Keith growled like a disgruntled cat, shoving his face into the ground in one last angry moment of fight.

“Stop,” Shiro commanded, pressing harder, leaning in closer.  His lips grazed against Keith’s ear.  “Don’t fight me.   _Don’t fight me_.”

The sound tearing out of Keith’s throat sounded strange, even to him.  It was an animal that had lost, but it wasn’t Anthony he was conceding to.

He could trust Shiro, a small voice reminded him.  He could do that.

With great effort, he let himself go limp.

Shiro wasn’t relenting and he was only hurting himself at this point.

“Keith…  Jesus…”  Shiro breathed again, a private word between then, hurt and anguish coating his tone.  He took Keith’s knife discreetly and hid it before turning to the others.  “What the hell is going on here, cadets?”  He roared, standing tall and rounding on them.

Keith let himself lay in the cement.  Bits of rock were sticking to his cheek.  He could feel blood trickling down his face and onto the ground.

Anthony lied through his teeth.  “Kogane came after me, sir.  Said something about not wanting to see my face at school anymore.”

There was a heavy silence.  Keith could feel it pressing him down into the ground harder.  He grit his teeth and swallowed blood.  

“Someone get Iverson,” Shiro said quietly.  

No one moved.

“ _Now._ ”

“I don’t want any trouble,” Anthony said quickly.  “Iverson doesn’t need to hear about this.”

Keith could imagine it: the glare that Shiro shot at Anthony.  

He knelt beside Keith again, his voice gruff.  It wasn’t his Shiro.  “Are you hurt?”

Keith shook his head, scraping his face in the rocks.

“Get up, then.”

The callousness of his tone hurt more than anything.

Slowly, he reached his hands up to push himself off the ground.  His right hand was thrashed.  It had already swollen to twice its usual size and was throbbing with every beat of his heart.  He couldn’t put weight on it, so he shifted to his side and used one hand to push himself up.

He couldn’t look at Shiro, who stood near him, but didn’t ask to look at his hand.  Wasn’t even facing Keith.

 _Promise me_ , Shiro had said, and he had, but now he was bleeding that promise all out on the ground.  He had thought he could handle this.  Tie it up into a nice little bow and be back to Shiro before lunch even ended.  He hadn’t wanted to worry Shiro with it, but now look... This was so much worse.

“Shiro,” he tried to say, because the guilt was violent and sudden, drowning him mercilessly.

“Don’t,” Shiro said.  “Later.”

His eyes slipped to the ground and he breathed out tiredly.  He had wanted to be a better person, but nothing had changed in his heart.

Iverson came, more weary than all of them combined, and he yelled his head off about responsibility and being a decent human being.  “If you can’t get along with your fellow cadets, how will you ever manage to survive in the world, let alone space?”

Keith couldn’t focus.  His hand was disgusting and painful, constantly robbing his attention.  He tried deep breathing, tried visualizing to think of something other than the pain.  But the only other thing he could think of was the agony in Shiro’s voice as he realized what Keith had been doing, and the disappointed look in his eyes as he turned away from him.

Keith had fought Shiro in the heat of the battle and he was ashamed.  More ashamed than he knew he could be.  He wanted to fix it somehow, as quickly as he could, as best as he could, but he didn’t know how.

I’m sorries wouldn’t do.

Since no one would admit to anything and Anthony didn’t try to pin the blame on Keith again, probably realizing that he’d be in just as much trouble, Iverson didn’t do more than yell and glare at all of them.  When his eyes came down to Keith’s, he shook his head, eyes losing their hope.

Keith closed his eyes.  He wished he could keep them closed for the next month and let everyone cool off and heal without him.  

Everyone left, too afraid to look in case they met Shiro in the eyes.  He had an aura about him Keith had never felt, heavy, like gravity, but it wasn’t light and warm this time.  It was suffocating, like the weight of the world.

Keith had guessed that there was more to Shiro than his happy-go-lucky teacher’s assistant mode, or his soft and caring side.  Experiencing it was different.  He felt very small beneath Shiro’s anger.  He wanted to go on his knees and beg for his forgiveness.

Even though it was just the two of them, shoved in between silence, Shiro didn’t look at him.  

Finally, he said, “go to the infirmary.  Get cleaned up.”

His footsteps were heavy against the ground as he turned from Keith and walked away.

“What about…?”  But Keith stopped.  He wasn’t sure what he was going to say.  

Shiro stopped.  “What about what?”

“I just…  You’re mad.  Shouldn’t we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?”  Shiro whispered, words cutting through his throat, shoulders drooping.  

“I…  Shiro, I’m sorry.  I know it’s not enough, but I am.  I’m so sorry.  They had put a note in my locker.  I thought I could just go there, tell them to stop, and then leave.  I wasn’t going to fight.  I swear I wasn’t.  I don’t want to _be_ that person anymore.  I turned away from them.  I was headed for the door.  I wasn’t going to do anything, but then he started saying…things about you.  Horrible things.  I couldn’t stand to hear him say that.”

“So, you what…?”  Shiro shrugged, turning in one fluid motion, his face buried in a dark frown.  “You decide that you’re just going to ignore everything I’ve ever told you about yourself, about the Garrison, and throw it away for some petty revenge?”  His voice was raising.

He stared at Shiro, feeling the blood drain from his face, feeling the tide turn against him.  Too much.  Too much.  He couldn’t lose Shiro, not now.

“They were saying bad things about you…”  He whispered.

“Who cares?”  Shiro yelled, taking a step forward.  Keith shrunk back.  “Let them think what they want about me!  This is _your future_ that you keep trying to throw away!  I told you!  You promised me that you’d stay out of their way!  That you’d come to me if anything happened, but you didn’t!  You tried to handle everything yourself again!  Why??  Do you not trust me? You’d rather get kicked out of school and lose everything than just trust me?”

“No,” Keith whispered.  He was five again, tugging on housemother’s dress skirts, begging her to understand.  “ _No_.”

“Why, Keith?  Why is it such a struggle to keep you in the Garrison?  You had a _knife_!”

“It’s basically a butter knife!”

“It’s a knife!  You could’ve killed someone with it!  Do you know what they would’ve done to you if they’d found out!  If I hadn’t just happened to catch you in time?  Jail, Keith!  You’d be eighteen and in jail, your future _destroyed_.  You made me lie to them!  You made me turn you in to Iverson,” tore from his throat.

“It’s fine,” Keith said quickly.  “Whatever would’ve happened would’ve been my fault.  I did it.  It’s not your fault at all.  And besides, it’s alright.  Everything worked out fine.”

“I didn’t know what would happen! _Keith!_  I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else, and I just -  You just -”

 “Shiro, I…  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean…”

“What would you have done?”  Shiro whispered.  “What would you have done?”

He envisioned the desert, those steep cliffs, the emptiness of the yellow around him.  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  “Things are different now, Shiro.  Even if I got kicked out…  I…”

“I can’t leave here,” Shiro said.  “If you get kicked out, then what?  What, Keith?  Think!  Use your head!  And next time, don’t promise me things you don’t intend to do.”

“Shiro, that’s not -”

“I’ve got to go,” Shiro said, turning from Keith’s outstretched hand and shaking his head slightly.  “I need to cool off before I say something I don’t mean.”  He drew in a shaky breath.  “You…you should get that looked at.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered, biting his lip.

“…Do you need help to the infirmary?”

Keith didn’t want Shiro there if he didn’t want to be.  He shook his head.  “I’ll go myself.”

Shiro heaved a sigh and left.

Keith stayed standing in the pavilion, wind blowing his hair against the rocks still jammed into his face.  He brushed them off, wincing.  Fresh blood trickled down.

Looked like Keith’s luck had run out.

The sky was empty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending with Anthony physically pained me to write. I wanted him to be even more foul but just the mere THOUGHT of saying bad things about Shiro made me die inside. I literally had to pause and squirm for the things I DID manage, haha. I'M SORRY, SHIRO. *hides in shame*
> 
> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me [on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	10. Chapter 10

Keith didn’t go to the infirmary. He went straight to his room, tossed himself into bed, and let himself rot.

It had been afternoon, but that bled into evening.  His room mate came in, but Keith didn’t have the energy to force himself to play nice, so he let himself lay still in the dark, playing asleep instead, playing dead.

His hand kept him up the entire night. Instead of getting better, it only felt worse by the hour. Each pound of his heart beat harshly through it like it was being crushed anew beneath steady weight. He hadn’t realized pain could be so persistent. At least pain that wasn’t stemming from his dream.

The window’s curtains were only half drawn in his laziness, and he could see the damn stars twinkling deep in the sky. He cursed them again, though his heart wasn’t fully in it.  He felt like shit now, but Shiro would forgive him, he had enough faith to believe that.

But still, at the moment, all he could think of was everyone who’d ever left him - his mother, his father, the foster parents who tried to take him in, the housemothers who had been so eager to get rid of him all those years. The people who were always excited when he left.

Maybe that was the way things worked and, as time would go on and Shiro learned of all Keith’s flaws, even he - even kind and forgiving Shiro - would leave too.

Keith had hoped for sleep that was numb and forgiving, but, of course, the world had other plans.

It was deathly quiet.  He was in the teacher’s lounge, by a desk. On it sat a manila envelope. On the top, left hand corner said, “Takashi Shirogane”.

Slowly, Keith reached for it. The envelope was heavy with content, but when Keith undid the clasp, the bulk of it disappeared and all that was inside were three photos. The first was of Matt.  He was holding his helmet and actually smiling like a normal human being. Keith turned to the next photo. The second was of some older man who Keith vaguely recognized as Matt’s father. With dread, he had a feeling he already knew who the third photo would be. He shuffled the image of Sam Holt to the back and, with careful hands, pulled the last image up.

It was of Shiro in his uniform, smiling his confident Shiro-smile, looking the perfect image of a legendary pilot.

Keith loved the image.  It was the face of someone who clearly belonged at the Garrison, who had a bright future ahead of him.

There was a click behind him and the sound of a television turning on. Static.

Taking in a deep steadying breath, he placed the photos down and walked over. A woman’s voice, a news anchor, spoke out of it, garbled and choppy: “Kerberos mission...no survivors…it has been officially determined...”  The static overcame her voice, piercing into Keith’s mind. The last bit he could make out was a garbled, “Shirogane”, before the tv clicked off into darkness.

Shiro…

He stepped toward the tv, reaching out for the dial, before the dream dropped out from under him and morphed into something else, something garbled with waves of noxious color.  Of that world of ice.

In the morning, his gut felt raw and heavy with premonition.  He remembered just then, Shiro saying in the cafe, _ice samples_.

He sat up, rubbing his right arm and hissing at the sensation in it, when there was a loud knock on the door that made him jump.

Matt came in casually, fidgeting with his glasses as he looked around the place.

“God, I remember these days. Grunt-y cadet that you are, your room is a tiny hole in the wall. I do not envy you one bit. You’ve got a roommate too! The worst luck.”

“Matt,” Keith grunted, running his hand across his face tiredly. “What are you doing here? I’ve got to get ready for first period.”

Matt snorted. “It’s Saturday, genius. Shiro’s taking some aptitude test.  For what reason? No one knows. Even the creators of the test probably used Shiro as their model for it. Whatever. He sent me to make sure you went to the infirmary last night.” He peeked down at Keith’s hand and grimaced. “Annnd the answer is no. He’s going to be pissed at you.”

Keith heaved another sigh, slouching and not even caring to correct it. “He already is.”

Matt tutted under his breath, walking forward and holding out his hands for Keith’s. He inspected it with care, trying his best to be gentle, but it just wasn’t the same as Shiro’s quiet soft touch. “Shiro’s not mad.”

“He is. I’m pretty sure he even tossed in a swear word.”

“That’s just a ruse,” Matt hummed, giving Keith his hand back. “Looks absolutely disgusting. Let’s get it fixed up in the infirmary, otherwise known as your second home.”

With a dramatic sigh, Keith forced himself out of bed and relented. “It wasn’t a ruse. You didn’t see him. …”

“You were being an idiot,” Matt said, nodding all matter-of-fact. “I was the one who told him to go to you, you know. You had a weird look in your eyes yesterday.  Like you were out for blood. Now, you just look like a kicked puppy.”

Keith tsked angrily, frowning at him as he shoved his feet into boots. He nodded to the door and Matt followed him out. “I had a dream about Shiro last night.”

“Oh,” Matt said, wrinkling his nose, sounding disturbed.

“Not _that_ kind of dream.  Jesus.  You were in it.”

“Oh, thank god.” His eyes lit up. “What was I doing?”

“You were dead. You all were. The Kerberos mission failed.”

Matt crinkled his nose, heaved a sigh, and pushed his glasses up his face.

“…It said there were no survivors.  They said Shiro’s name.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve been having these dreams lately.  They feel different from regular dreams. I dreamt about Shiro before I even met him.  I saw you in my dream before I even knew who you were.  I was dreaming of Kerberos’ surface before I even knew there _was_ a Kerberos mission.  I think they tell the future....”

Matt rose an eyebrow. “You think you can see the future?”

“I don’t know what to think...  I just have this _feeling_ in my chest telling me to trust it.  And I always follow my intuition, it’s what always guides me.  The pain in my arm the other week, dreaming of Kerberos, dreaming of Shiro, of you… It’s all related. I think…I think something really bad will happen on the Kerberos mission.”

Matt said lowly, the amusement and jest slowly fading out of him the longer he watched Keith’s face. “You’re being serious right now?”

“Yeah, I am.  Your dad.  I saw him, I think.  Grey hair, rectangle glasses, smaller eyes?  I’ve never met him, how would I know that?”

“Well, yeah, but didn’t you just describe 90% of dads?”

Keith rubbed at the side of his head, pressing his lips together tightly. “I have a really bad feeling about it…  Really bad.  I’ve never felt this way before.  Not ever.”

Speechless for once, Matt turned from Keith, his eyes aglow with fast thoughts and his lips pursed in anxiety. “It’s just collecting ice samples, Keith. I’m sure it’s just nerves.”

“No, you don’t understand -”

“- I think I do. You care about Shiro. You care about him a lot. And you’re happy. …You don’t want to lose him. I get it.

“You were out of sorts last night after your little fight. Your hand is swollen to the size of a damn basketball and you’re not feeling well. You had some nightmares, but that’s all they were. You’re just freaking yourself out.”

“Matt -”

“Talk everything out with Shiro. You’ll feel better.”

Keith closed his eyes tightly and tried to hold himself back. _Why do you both have to go? Why can’t you just stay?_ But he knew the answer. They were all at the Garrison for a reason. To fly to the stars was the dream.

“Ye of little faith...  He’s no you, but Shiro is amazing. He’s the second best pilot ever to grace the Garrison’s walls,” Matt winked. “He’s a legend.  Whatever's thrown at him, he'll figure out, I promise.”

“...Maybe he won’t even get it,” he said even though he didn’t believe it.

Matt snorted.  “Honestly, who else would they choose? You’re still too new no matter the talent.”

“No, I know. I just…” He sighed heavily, pushing the infirmary doors open with his shoulder. The nurse looked up and her mouth pulled down instantly.

“Kogane,” she greeted in resignation. “Welcome home.”

Matt snorted.

The ligament had ruptured but the bones were alright.  He just needed to keep it still.  She recommended painkillers and a splint, but, for the time being, wrapped it in a bandage and sent him away.

“Shiro’s going to be upset,” was one of the first things Matt sighed. “I’m not going looking forward to telling him.”

Keith hummed, trying got resist the call of his bed, but it felt nearer than it was, and the pull was strong.

They made it to a fork in the hall, one wall pointing them toward the dorm rooms and the other in bold letters saying, “teacher’s lounge.” With a jolt, he remembered the dream the previous night and stopped in his tracks, turning to the other side of the hallway.

“What’s up?”

“Shiro turned in his application today?”

“Yeah. His last one got lost or _something_ , I dunno.  He won’t be back until late probably. Gotta take some tests too.”

Keith wasn’t thinking of that. He was thinking of his dreams. If he were to follow last night’s, he’d find himself in the teacher’s lounge, sneaking in and taking the application Shiro sent in.

Maybe he’d be saving his life.

Maybe not.

But he’d be sabotaging Shiro either way.

What was right?

Matt stepped in front of Keith’s face, waving a hand animatedly. “Earth to Keith. What’s up?”

His eyes snapped back to Matt’s. “Nothing. I was just…hoping he’s doing alright.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “ _Please_. This is Shiro we’re talking about. ‘Doing alright?’ He’s probably demolishing.”

“Right…”

Deliberately, he took a step to the dorms.

He felt anxiety rippling through his body all day, like an electrical current following him wherever he went.  But if Shiro wanted this, then it was his decision. Keith wasn’t going to force him into anything.

That night, he could feel the wrongness in his head before he even drew the blankets over himself and laid down.

The stars were hanging in the sky crookedly, shining with a strange sheen.  He was afraid to go to sleep.

Keith tried reading for the night, but he couldn’t focus. He hadn’t seen Shiro all day and didn’t get the chance to apologize again or set things right.  There uneasiness was still lodged in his chest.  Shiro had sent him a message before dinner, but Keith had been too drained to meet up.  He sent Shiro a quick apology and crawled into bed.

He could’ve evade sleep.  The book fell to his chest as he drifted off into slumber.  And into dreams he fell.

No.  Not again.

It was the nightmare he dreaded. Tied down again, so tightly that it hurt. It hurt even worse to move. They stood over him, syringe in hand, with a liquid that was a mysterious shade of metallics. They glowed eerily in the light, screaming out, _wrong! Wrong! Wrong!_

“Let me go,” Keith pleaded.  It hadn’t worked last time and it didn’t work the second.  He couldn’t stop himself from begging, remembering the pain and feeling the panic rise in his throat.

They wouldn’t listen.  No hope. No hope left.

The syringe was coming closer.  They grabbed the saw.  Cut through.

Usually, the dream would end there. Keith’s shackles would be released and he’d just deal with the pain.

Tonight was different. He was still held in place, his arm bleeding out, his throat tearing from his screams.

The pain was so intense that it made him forget himself. So when they brought in a shining grey container filled with equipment that they began fitting to his bloodied stump, he didn’t even register that the face in the reflection wasn’t even his.

It wasn’t until later, when he was sobbing in his bed back at the Garrison, that he realized the face was Shiro’s.

He had seen him.  Actually seen him - a visual confirmation.  His face there, wild with fear and agony.  There was no denying that.

“Don’t,” Keith cried as the door opened and light poured into the room. “Don’t get Shiro. Don’t. _Don’t_.”

“But. You’re -!”

“It’s fine,” Keith insisted, but he couldn’t choke back a yell because though the pain was constant, waves of agony that surpassed his capability to handle would knock him over like a wall.

“Shiro can help!” The voice insisted.

“No! No, he can’t come here!”

He was afraid. Afraid that the dream would bleed into reality and take Shiro in, bring him onto that slab, bound and tortured.

His arm. Bleeding. Spurts of blood that got everywhere.

Still bound. Powerless. In agony.

Even Anthony would never.

Keith turned into the wall, shoving his face up to press against it, trying to absorb the coolness of it. His face was feverish. He wished he could peel out of his skin and be a leaf in a river.

“What can I get you?” The voice said helplessly.

Keith turned bleary eyes to the person. “Who?” he muttered, dizziness making him sway.

“It’s me, your roommate. It’s Lance.”

“Lance…” he said softly, closing his eyes. A laugh bubbled out of him. He finally had a name. “I’m fine. Really. Just… It’s just a dream.”

“That is not a dream.  Something’s seriously wrong!”

“I saw the nurse already,” Keith grit through the pain.  “She couldn’t help.”  

“There has to be something.”

“That was you, wasn’t it?”

“What? Me?”

“You.  You were talking with your friend about the stars on the rooftop in the bathroom a few months ago.  I went up there.  And it worked.”

“What?  The…the soul mate thing?  You’re talking about that right now?”

“Yeah,” Keith laughed softly.  His cough was weak as it bubbled from him.  “I guess I am.”

“I…what about it?  Are you sure I can’t get someone?  Shiro’s friend?  The one with the glasses.”

“No.  No, I just said.  I’m fine.  The fucking stars.  Have you heard from anyone before…about it working?”

“Uh…  I guess?  I mean, my cousin’s friend got married because of the stars, she said.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Um.  They have a baby?”

“About the stars,” Keith growled, but regretted it instantly.  His arm pain flared and he was cringing against it again.  Black was washing over him.  He was close to blacking out, he could feel it.  It wasn’t a moment too soon when it finally receded.

“…The stars,” Lance said quietly when Keith finally relaxed again.  “All I know is they led her to the love of her life.  She said something about her guardian angel leading the way.  I dunno.  It’s probably just a fairytale.  I tried it myself but nothing happened.”

“Dreams.  Did she talk about dreams?”

“I don’t know.  I can give you her number and you can call her.  She loves to talk about it.”

Keith groaned, shoving his hand over his face.  Fucking phones.  It hardly seemed worth it.

“Or, uh…  I guess I could call for you if you want.”

Keith took in a deep breath.  Thought of Shiro.  Of his goodness.  Of his ability to not snap at just anything and nothing alike like Keith was in the habit of doing.  “…No, it’s fine,” he managed.  And then, imagining what Shiro would say, tacked on a quick, “thanks.”

“No problem.  …Say, I don’t mean to pry or anything, but do you have an old wound on your arm?  Maybe that’s what’s hurting.”

Keith frowned, turning his neck on his pillow, feeling his hair, thick with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck and scalp.  

On his arm was a thick pink scar, just slightly visible.  It looked old, healed for the most part.

Keith’s eyes widened.

Lance said, uneasily, “…I don’t remember seeing it there before, though…”

It hadn’t been.  Except in his dreams, as the saw came down on his arm, hacking away.  Tearing through flesh in his dream.  In his dream.

But there it was, undeniably so, marring the skin of his flesh.

He rolled onto his side and threw up.

“Whoa!”  Lance winced, stumbling out of range.  “...Again...?”

Keith was breathing heavily.  What the fuck was going on?  His dreams were giving him wounds.  It was too close.  Too near Shiro.  Reaching up and out of him with hands that were reaching for Shiro.  He couldn’t let it happen.  Wouldn’t let it happen.

Should he tell Shiro?  Should he not?  This was above and beyond what Keith could handle mentally.  Shiro would know what to do...  He always knew what to do.  And if he didn’t, he’d make it seem okay somehow.

Keith had to get to him.

“Whoa,” Lance said again, pressing a hand to his chest.  “Where are you going?”

“Gotta…get up,” he felt delirious.  Fever, acid, pain, spinning.

“Um…  I think you should stay here.”

“No!  No, I…”  He was overwhelmed.  The black waves that were pulling at him softly before, roared up overhead and knocked him down, overcoming him.  He passed out in one quick fall.

And woke to the sound of someone loudly shushing another.  

“He’s sleeping!  It’s fine!”  They whisper-yelled.

“You’re being way too loud.  Look, he’s waking up.”

“Oh.  Shoot...”

“ _Lance_ …”  the voice sighed in resignation.

Keith’s entire body was sluggish, like he was in a pool of some thick sort of water that was inhibiting his movement.  He pried his eyes open only by sheer force of will and peered into the darkness of the room.

It was hardly morning, but Keith could see, through the tiny crack in the curtains, that the stars were disappearing out of the sky and blue was lightening into something softer.

He turned his eyes downward to the two crouching next to his bed.

Lance was there with his friend he’d been talking to those months ago, during the fateful bathroom visit.

“Hi,” the guy said, smiling guiltily, but offering a wave.  “I’m Hunk.  Lance called me.  He didn’t know what to do.”

“Sorry, man,” Lance said with a shrug.  “You said no Shiro.”

Keith huffed a weary sigh, eyes shifting to what they were working on, crouched down by the side of his bed, hands full of wet cloth.  He immediately tried to pull himself up.  “No, I’ve got that -”

“No can do, little buddy.  You rest.”

“It’s my mess,” Keith grit out, but the words were slurred and nearly unrecognizable and Keith allowed himself to relax in hopes to recover himself.

“I don’t mind,” Hunk said cheerfully.  “Is it so hard to let someone help you?”

Lance snorted. “Yes.”

“Well, now is as good of a time to learn as any.  I’m all done anyway.  See?  Good as new.”

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance said.  “I couldn’t do it anymore.  The smell was killing me.”

“Yeah, you know what?  Let’s open a window,” Hunk said easily, walking over to it and cracking it open.

Lance jumped back onto his own bed, still watching Keith.  He had his shoes and jacket on, meaning he had left when Keith was passed out and came back.  Keith hadn’t even woken.

“Big guy made you some soup.  He’s the best chef in the country probably, so the chefs in the Garrison gave him a key.  Can you believe that?  He has so much power he’s basically unstoppable.”

Hunk made a small sound of embarrassment.  “It’s nothing.  Do you like chicken noodle?  I hope you don’t mind it.  It’s good for you and might help whatever you’re going through.  I mean, a doctor would probably be your best bet, but if you’re not going to go…”

Keith waved him away tiredly, shaking his head in tiny micro movements.  “It’s good.  Sounds good.”

“No problem, buddy.  Is there anything else you might need?”

Keith shook his head, looking down at his hands.  They were shaking and weak.  He felt so raw inside and out.  He was at their mercy, totally and completely vulnerable and the reality was starting to set in.

These people were strangers.  He had been afraid of people for so long, so sure they’d take advantage of him in any way possible the first chance they’d get.  But instead of hurting, they were helping.  They didn’t even know Keith, and still...

Maybe the world wasn’t as horrible as he thought after all.

He pressed his lips together tightly and felt the burning in his eyes as he tried to fight back tears.  He pressed his palms into his eyes to try to stop it, but it did little.

“…Thanks,” he said softly around the lump in his throat, wrestling with the emotion on his face.  “...You didn’t have to do this.  Any of it.  But you did.  Thank you both.”

There was a stunned silence, followed by the both of them bumbling over each other.  “Of course,” they said.  “It’s no problem, buddy.”

Maybe Shiro was right about more things than even Keith gave him credit for.  Maybe, just maybe, Keith wasn’t as hated and unlikeable as he thought.

He found himself growing lighter as he cried.  He smiled as he rubbed the tears off his cheeks and sat up tenderly.  Hunk brought him a lap table all set up like an art display, a small flower in a vase and all.

Who knew the kindness of strangers?  Maybe a friend had been beside him all along and all he had to do was look.

They all fell asleep again in the early morning, sleeping until a more decent time.  When he woke, Keith found that he felt better than he assumed he would.  His arm wasn’t screaming anymore, it was just a dull roar and he could move his fingers if he really focused, which was nice.  

Lance and Hunk were sprawled out on Lance’s bed, snoring up a storm.  And though they barely fit together, they sure looked comfortable.  Keith couldn’t help the soft smile on his face as he watched the two of them.  There was a strange prickling of excitement in his heart as he realized that maybe one day he could be friends with them too, and maybe he’d one day feel comfortable enough to dog pile on their bed together with them.  

But one step at a time.

Keith carefully slipped into a loose fitting outfit and shoved on some slippers.  He wasn’t well, he wasn’t going to fake it.  Slowly, carefully, he made his way out of his room and down the hallways to Shiro’s dorm.

There was a nervousness brewing in the bottom of his stomach.  What if Shiro didn’t believe him?  What if he did, but still went?  What if Keith couldn’t save him?  Or find the right words at all?

He couldn’t live with himself if that happened.  

But Shiro would give him an honest chance to explain himself, at least there was that.

He opened Shiro’s door and stepped in.  It wasn’t too absurdly early anymore, but he guessed he probably should’ve knocked beforehand.  He had made it a bad habit to just come right in.

Shiro was on the couch, sitting with Matt, where they were both hovering over something.  

Shiro squawked when Keith came in, head spinning wildly to the door.  “Keith!”  He cried, jumping forward to scoop something up guiltily.

Keith frowned. “I..I’m sorry.  I should’ve knocked.  I just -”

Matt was up and walking over with a resigned sigh.  “Don’t look at the table.  Turn around.  Come on, now.”  He placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders and spun him around.  “Katie’s visiting again, though don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.  She’s in my dorm.  Go hang out with her for a bit.”

“What?  Why?”  He tried to look around Matt.  “Shiro?”

“Sorry, Keith,” Shiro called over Matt’s shoulder.  “I’ll come over when I’m done.”

“Done with what?”  Keith griped.  He didn’t like to be manhandled, but he allowed it.  Matt guided him down the hallway and to his own room.  Keith had never been inside before.

“Wow,” he rolled his eyes when the door opened.  “How am I not surprised that you’re a huge slob?”

“Priorities and all that.  What can you do?  Don’t come barging in again, we’ll be right back.  Almost done.”

“I hate all this secrecy.”

“Of course you’d choose today of all days to wake up early,” Matt snorted, patting his back once.  “Don’t peek.”  He poked his head up over Keith’s shoulder and said, “Don’t bully him too much.  You’ll make Shiro cry.”

Keith turned.

It was Matt’s look-alike, just smaller with longer hair and no glasses.  She sniffed in irritation at having been woken up without her consent and then let herself fall back, going back to sleep as if there wasn’t a stranger in the room with her.

Keith sighed, looking back at the door in confusion.  Had Shiro gotten accepted to the Kerberos mission?  Was he not ready to tell Keith?

With a distressed sigh, Keith wandered to the nearest cleanest spot to sit and let himself fall into it.  

He thought he might cry.  Shiro felt like he was slipping through Keith’s fingers the more time went by.  Keith needed a stop button.  A pause at least.  

With another sigh, he looked around for a distraction.  He found the gorilla beside him on the couch and it reminded him of his and Shiro’s lion plushies, so he reached out for it, nestling it into his hold.  The rest of Matt’s room was just clutter, wrinkled clothes, and textbooks that were more gibberish than sense, so Keith settled for laying his head on the gorilla, turning on his watch, and trying to figure it out the messaging system.  Shiro usually helped him figure out the more obscure things, but Keith didn’t have much interest in the watch in general.

He was busy trying to get it to search for Hunk or Lance’s number so he could thank them again, when he heard a small voice say, “you’re doing it wrong.  You need to press the text in the corner first.”

Keith looked up at Katie and then pressed the text.

“And now you need to type in the name there.  But don’t add a comma.  You’ll mess up the search.”

“Thanks,” Keith mumbled, doing as she instructed.  “How do you know that?”

She laughed under her breath.  “This is literally just basic common sense.  I thought my brother said you were smart.”

Keith laughed wearily then paused.  A wave of sickness washed over him, tugging at the pit of his stomach.  For a moment, his eyes went strange, overlaying the sight of his watch with a vision of someplace else, of being strapped to a board and tormented.

He gasped as a set of fingers snapped in his face.  “...You okay?”  

He looked over at Katie, nodding slowly.  “...Tired.”

She watched him for a moment longer before nodding to his watch.  “Try it.”  

Sure enough, he found Hunk and Lance’s numbers the way she told him.  He typed in the message and sent it off.  There.

“My name’s Katie.  I know we’ve already met and spent the day together and all, but I’m not entirely confident you caught my name when Matt first said it, seeing as you weren’t wearing a shirt at the time and you were more flustered than anyone I’d ever seen.”

Keith laughed under his breath.  “And my name’s Keith.  …The circumstances last time were pretty bad, I’ll admit.”

“You’re wearing slippers now, Keith.  A mighty improvement.”

He wiggled his toes, looking down at them.  “I am.  It’s Sunday.  I can’t afford to care on the weekends.”

“That’s my kind of line,” she said, swinging her feet off the bed and crawling over the piles of clothes to sit beside Keith.  She inspected him through sharp eyes, as if she were extracting information from him right then and there without saying a word.  “Matt speaks very highly about you.  Besides Shiro, he's never really bothered to mention anyone else.  It intrigues me.  And then Shiro seems like he's super fond of you.  That surprises me too."

“Ah.”  He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, searching for something to cast away the awkwardness he was feeling.  She seemed perfectly comfortable watching him like a cat.  “Um.  How long have you known Shiro?

“I’ve known him since I was little.  He and Matt hit it off years ago.  He comes to our house for the holidays sometimes if he can’t go back home.”

“Does he really?”  Keith frowned around the gorilla.  “He doesn’t go home?”

“Not usually.  I like Ryou, but Shiro deserves better from his parents honestly.  I think he’s a little too good.”

“Too good?”

“Yeah.  His parents take advantage of that, manipulate him so that they can get what they want.  He’d do it, wouldn’t he?  If you wanted him to do something for you, it wouldn’t take much to get him to do it, wouldn’t you think?”

Keith thought of Shiro taking over helping out with his bathroom cleaning duties no matter how much he protested.  If Keith had complained of an aching hand and sat down for awhile, Shiro would’ve undoubtedly finished it all for him with a smile and quite possibly, even a thank you.

It made him sad.  Keith wanted to protect Shiro from anyone who would dare think of using his kindness against him.  That was so wrong.

“But it’s not all bad,” Katie said softly.

Keith looked up.

“He seems lucky too.  He makes sure to surround himself with people who care about him.  Not everyone would get that opportunity.  Matt would probably die for him, honestly.  He loves Shiro like a brother.  And now, he’s got you.  I can see that loyalty in your face.  You hardly know him, and maybe you’d defend him to the death too.”

Keith chuckled lowly.  He felt it in his gut to be true.  “It’s not luck.  He’s just like that.  He inspires loyalty in people maybe?  When I first came here, I didn’t trust anyone.  Not even him.  He’s special that way.”

Katie hummed, taking in a deep breath and stretching out over the couch.  “Matt says that too.  I’m looking forward to getting to know you all.”

“You’re applying?”

She smiled widely.  “I can’t let my brother and Dad hog all the fun, now can I?”

Keith snorted.  “I have a feeling you’re going to crush everyone here.”

“Me too, Keith, me too.”

They both laughed.

The sound of the door sliding had the both of them looking up.  Matt was there, walking in with a smug smile on his face.  “You have been summoned.”

“He’s ready for me?”  Keith rose an eyebrow.  

“You bet.  Katie, put on a hoodie and let’s go out.  I want to get breakfast before I perish.”

She yawned loudly and then hopped to her feet, following Matt out the door who had already left down the hallway.

“Nice talking to you,” she waved to Keith.  “And nice gorilla, by the way,” she said, rocking back, hands jammed in her pockets.

“Oh,” Keith blinked in surprise, looking down at it still in his hands.  He had forgotten it was supposed to be for her.  “You like it?”

“Eh.  Matt will be Matt.  I’m more of a lion person myself.”

Keith smiled, ducking his head to hide a laugh.  “Me too.”

She flashed him a confused amused look before whirling on her heel and leaving.

Shiro was sitting on the couch still when Keith came in, back straighter than usual and posture stiff.  He whipped around when he heard Keith’s footsteps.

“H-hey,” he said quickly.

“Hi?  What are you doing in here that’s so damn suspicious?  Matt had that smile on his face when he said you were done.”

Shiro laughed softly and patted the seat beside him.  “Sit with me.”

Keith sat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you yesterday.  I was running around all day...”

“It’s fine, Shiro.  I was busy too.”

Shiro took in a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly.  As he let himself breathe out slowly, with control, he turned to Keith, eyes calm.  “I want to apologize to you...  The other day surprised me.  I didn’t expect to see you in that position and when I did I just...lost it.  I yelled at you and said hurtful things.  I was mad and I...I shouldn’t have said it like that.  I should’ve gotten ahold of my temper better.  I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head slightly, closing his eyes.  “Keith, you mean the world to me.  I don’t want you to feel like I was betraying you by calling Iverson.  I…  I wanted to do what was right and I didn’t know what that would be.  I didn’t want you to get into trouble.  I didn’t want you to leave.  I’m sorry.  I really am.”

“Shiro,” Keith mumbled, bumping Shiro’s chin up with a gentle touch of his thumb. “There’s absolutely no need for you to apologize.  It wasn’t your fault.  I don’t blame you.”

“It’s just…I _saw you_.  I saw you about to go after Anthony and I knew you’d get in trouble.  I was thinking of staying in the Garrison without you around and I just couldn’t imagine that sort of thing anymore.  You’re part of this place, you know?  And you’re a genius.  You’re made for here.  For it to be lost on something so ridiculous…  I got mad.  I wish you didn’t have to see that.  I was just scared.  That was all that was.  I’m sorry.  Please forgive me.”

“…Shiro, everyone gets mad.  You’re human.”

Shiro pressed his fingers into his eyes.  “I don’t like that side of myself,” he said lowly.  “I yelled at you when you needed me and I wish I hadn’t.”

Shiro was hunched forward, clearly suffering.  Trying to conjure up an image in his mind of what a normal caring person might do, Keith hesitantly reached a hand out and placed it over Shiro’s.  Shiro looked up in surprise and Keith took it as his chance to smile softly.  “I forgive you.  For all of it.  I don’t think there’s anything _to_ forgive, but…if that's what you need to hear...  Thank you for caring.  It means a lot to me.”  He took in a deep breath.  “I’m sorry too.  When I first came to the Garrison, I was rough and angry.  I’d hurt people and hardly care.  I...I truly was a bad person.  Maybe I still am.  I dunno, I just...  I wanted to try.  After watching you and how you have this patience and care in everything you do, I thought maybe I could change.  And this isn’t it.  What I did the other day, that was a disappointment to myself also.  I’m sorry, Shiro.  It wasn’t a worthy action of what you’ve taught me.  And I want to keep being better.  I will keep trying, I promise.”

Shiro nodded, looking slightly knocked off his game.  He blinked a few times.  “Keith...I think just the fact that you’re trying means you’re a better person than you even know.  And besides, you weren’t a bad person when you came into the Garrison.  Angry?  Yes.  Scared?  Of course.  Bad?”  Shiro shook his head slowly.  “You’ve never been bad.”

“I’m learning slowly.  From you.”

“Thanks, Keith…but the journey that you take inside is your own.  Every good thing you’ve done has been your decision.”

They both smiled at each other.

Keith really should’ve had this chat with Shiro the night before.  He felt so much better already.  Like the planets were aligned again, like he could finally breathe again.

Shiro asked, “How’s the hand?  Can I see?”  He offered a small repentant smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Keith held his hand out, still tied in the bandage.  “It’s alright.”

“Matt told me you didn’t go to the infirmary that day,” his tone sharpened.

“I was trying to avoid it.  I’m sure the nurse hates me by now. I wanted sleep, not to get glared at.”

Shiro pursed his lips as he gently handled Keith’s hand, slowly running his fingers up his small dainty wrists.  “That bastard Anthony…  I’m glad Iverson didn’t take any action against you, but leaving Anthony too?  He knows Anthony started it.”

Keith hummed in weary agreement.  “You stepped in at the right time.”

“I still can’t believe you had that knife...”

“ _Butter knife_ ,” Keith reminded in weary exasperation.  “Speaking of which, where’s my other knife?  The one you took earlier in the year?”

Shiro laughed.  “I’m not telling you so you could sneak in and take it...  It’s in a safe place, I swear.  I’m not going to go back on my word; you’ll get it back.”

“ _Shiro_.”

“ _Keith_.”

Keith huffed a sigh, but didn’t push.  He kind of got it.  He did just almost use a butter knife in a fight.  And if he were to give his knife up to anyone, he would choose Shiro.

“Did you get to talk to Katie?”

“Yeah, she scares me.  She knows too much or something.  I feel like she could kill me with one glance if she wanted to.”

Shiro laughed into his palm, leaning his cheek against it as he watched Keith fondly.  “Yeah, she can be intense.  She’s a good kid, though.  She’s Matt’s family, after all.  Good runs in their blood.”

Keith thought of Kerberos, of Matt and their dad dying, of Shiro going down with them.  Keith thought it’d be easy to come out and say it - it was critical, after all - but he struggled to find the words.

_You’re going to die._

Shiro was smiling so softly.  He looked so serene.  Keith couldn’t open his mouth and break that.

Shiro leaned over and grabbed a small box off the table.  He held it out for Keith.  “Second thing.  I, uh, I made something for you.”

Keith frowned at it as he brought it to his lap with both hands.  “Huh?  For me?”

“Yeah, why else do you think we were trying to get you out of here this morning?  To hide a body?”

“Not that.  You would’ve asked for my help for that.”

Shiro laughed, nodding toward it.  “I was finishing it up.”

There was wrapping paper taped carefully over it, topped with a little bow.  Keith blinked at it like it was an alien.  “A present?  …A present for me?”

“Yes,” Shiro said slowly, stretching the word out carefully.  He leaned in, smiling crookedly as he poked the bow.  “Did you forget what day it is?”

“Huh?”

“Keith,” Shiro said patiently, nudging their shoulders together.  “Notice the air getting colder?  I mean, not by much since we’re in the desert and all, but there’s the occasional chill.”

“Uh…almost Halloween?”

“That’s also true, but something else a little bit more important.”

Keith frowned hard.  “…Your Kerberos test -”

Shiro took pity.  “It’s October 23rd.”

Keith frowned, leaning in as if squinting could unveil the secrets of the universe.  “Okay?”

“It’s your _birthday._ ”  Shiro laughed, ruffling his hair as Keith continued to stare in confusion, his mind blown.

“Oh…”  Keith said, but it sounded like he comprehended nothing.  The present was still held loosely in his hands.

“Gosh, it’s like you don’t know what that even means.  October 23rd is your birthday, right?  I read your file when you first came here.  …In hindsight, I realize that’s a little creepy.”  The silence was drawing out too long and Shiro rose a nervous eyebrow.  “Uh, is it not the 23rd?”

“No,” Keith finally forced out, winded.  “No, it is the 23rd.  I’m sorry.  I…  I wasn’t expecting this.”

“It’s nothing big,” Shiro said gently, leaning over to bump into him again, prompting him.  “Open it.”

It was pathetic and embarrassing really, but Keith’s hands were shaking so hard he could barely get the bow off.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a present or even a simple “happy birthday”.  It was hitting him all too hard - the thought that someone else had remembered it and had gone through the trouble to acknowledge and celebrate him.  Him.  Not anything else.  It was too much.

Keith found himself nervous and excited all at once.  Some part of him was becoming so overwhelmed he almost wanted to run.  It was so much.  He felt like the luckiest person in the world.

“Oh man,” Shiro said softly.  “You’re making me nervous.  I wish I had done something else now.”

Keith heard himself chuckle breathlessly.  “Shiro.  Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet, silly.  What if you hate it?”

He carefully plucked the bow off and purposely pressed it on the top of Shiro’s knee.  Both of their legs were side-by-side, nearly touching.  “That’s impossible.”

With shaking hands, he undid the wrapping.

They were gloves.  Compression gloves with a small window on the back of the hand.

As Keith took them between his fingers, Shiro blabbed nervously, “I wasn’t really sure what to get you.  I wanted it to be useful to you, you know?  And I know you like knives,” he said with a chuckle, “but maybe for another year… And after you got hurt the other day, and it was my fault, I just thought…this might be good.  Helpful.”

Keith slipped one on.  “It’s soft…  It feels nice.”

“Do you like them?”  Shiro whispered, leaning forward and trying to mask the eagerness from his face.

Keith smiled shyly up at him.  “They’re amazing.  And thoughtful…  So like you.  Thank you.  You said you made these?”

Shiro nodded.  “Yep!  I’m not much of a seamstress.  Matt’s surprisingly good at this sort of thing, so he’s been instructing me.”

Keith looked closer.  “These stitches are amazing.  I can’t believe you actually made this.”  He tugged his bandage off his injured hand, ignoring Shiro’s protests, exposing marred bruised skin.  

Shiro hissed, but Keith slipped the glove on and all the markings disappeared.  He let out a content sigh, a small smile gracing his lips.  “It feels good.  Like a second skin.”

“I’m glad,” Shiro said, eyes glittering brightly.  “You have such small hands, I was worried they wouldn’t fit.”

“My hands aren’t small, yours are just big.”

Shiro laughed.  “Maybe they’re both a little out of proportion.”  He ran his fingers along the side of Keith’s glove and Keith paused to let him, going stock-still.  “Happy birthday, Keith.”

Keith smiled.  “Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro leapt to his feet. He turned, feet padding across the floor to get to his dresser.  He pulled out a bag off the top and walked back over, setting it in front of Keith.  “Breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Pastries from that cafe we went to.  I got some last night.”

“I thought you had a test last night?  For…for Kerberos.”

“Hm?  No, that was just in the morning.  It didn’t take long at all.  I was working on your gloves for most of it.  You wouldn’t believe how bad I was.  Almost even worse than at the arcade.”  He pulled out a pink cupcake.  “Ta-dah.”

Keith laughed softly.  “A cupcake for breakfast?”

“Sure, why not?  It’s only your birthday one day of the year.”

“Being an adult, I can eat a cupcake for breakfast whenever I want.”

“Then there’s no problem,” Shiro chuckled.  

Keith was very careful when it came to looking at his cupcake and eating it.  It wasn’t like he wanted to put it in a display case and save it for a few years, but this felt like something.  Like he was understanding something for the first time.  For so long, he thought everyone was shit and life wasn’t going to get better.   

Maybe there were things worth fighting for.  Really truly worth it.

“Hey,” Shiro hummed, tilting his head.

Keith had been staring at the frosting swirls for a little too long.  He lifted his eyes to Shiro, face going red.  

“…It’s been awhile since you’ve celebrated, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Keith whispered, trying to hide the vulnerability in his face that he knew was bleeding out.  “I don’t even really remember.  My father, he…he tried.  I think I did get a cake once.  It’s just…it’s been awhile.  Like you said.”

Shiro hummed kindly, pressing his knee to Keith’s and clapping a hand to it.  “Tell me.  If you could do one thing in this world - anything - what would you do today?”

Keith took in a deep breath, shrugging the thoughts out of his shoulders.  He tried to just feel, to just imagine and not think.

“Fly.  With you.  Away from here.  Far, far away.  Maybe never come back.”

Shiro laughed softly, barely even a whisper.  “Where will we go?”

Keith hummed lowly.  “Somewhere without struggle.  Without lost hopes.  No more fighting.”

“You’re the very definition of fight.”

“I’m just tired,” Keith said softly.  “Maybe I’ve fought too much.”

So suddenly that Keith almost toppled his cupcake from his hands, Shiro stood, eyes alight with epiphany.  “Then let’s go.  For today, at least.”

“Go?  Where?”

Shiro rummaged through his drawer and tossed Keith his keys.  “Where do you want to go?”  There was a little glint in his eye.

A smile began to develop on Keith’s face.  “Let’s just ride.  And just let it take us someplace.  What do you think?”

“I’ll bring my compass.”  He scratched his nose, thinking.  “And some water.  Let’s go on an adventure.”

Keith grinned.  “You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ˘ ³˘)♥  
> I first wrote this chapter in October. It made more sense then.


	11. Chapter 11

 Keith wasn’t supposed to be doing a lot of things.  For one, he didn’t think that the nurse would be happy with him if she saw how he was using his hand, driving in broad daylight when Keith didn't even have a license, let alone permission to ride Shiro's speeder.  Well, other than Shiro's, of course.  Rebelling was healthy once in awhile, especially if he was still able to keep a smile on his face and laugh with his favorite person in the whole wide world.  It felt like the very definition of freedom.

Any other day, Keith would’ve hated the blaring sun, but today, it felt like rays of hope lighting them up from behind, pushing them forward into even brighter horizons.  

In other words, Keith drove like a madman.

He loved it.  There was nothing else that could replicate that feeling, like he had sprouted wings and was making his great escape.  

Whenever he took a turn too crazily, or the speeder would lurch dangerously, Shiro would tense just slightly, his arms tightening around Keith’s middle.  Keith loved that more than anything.  It made him laugh.  He didn’t want to torment Shiro or push him, but it was becoming more and more difficult to resist.

“You’re supposed to be the pilot of a century,” Keith cackled, going out of his way to speed up a cliff and get air.  Freedom.  He crowed over the sound of the wind rushing through their ears, the howl of the adventure, “Don’t tell me you’re scared!”

“You’re a demon,” Shiro said unsteadily, cringing into Keith’s back.  “I’m not sure you’re human.”

Keith tossed his head back and laughed.

Whatever he was, it didn’t matter to him anymore.  Shiro would accept him any way.  But he did slow down a bit.  Shiro’s face was getting too green to be healthy.

“Hey, you see that?”  Keith said after awhile, deep into the desert, tilting his head to the side for Shiro to hear.  

“What?”  Shiro shifted behind him to look.

“There’s a tiny house up there.”

“Oh,” there was relief flooding into Shiro’s voice.  “We should take a break and check it out.”

“All part of the adventure, huh?”  Keith chuckled knowingly, slowing the speeder down to a stop.  As he slowed his vehicle down in the shadow of the house, he smiled happily, looking over his shoulder at Shiro.  “What’d you think?”

Shiro let out a small laugh.  He was breathless, but his eyes were twinkling as he pulled the helmet from his head.  He sat there for a moment, winded, trying to catch his breath.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been a passenger to anyone going even half that speed.”

Keith grinned brightly, shrugging.  “Was it bad?”

“No.  No, it was amazing.  It will take a little getting used to...  I kept thinking we’d crash and die but then you’d take us out of it at the last second.  And to think you were basically just using your one hand...”

“The glove really helps.”

“...That much?  Well, still, it’s humbling.  You really are something...”

Keith’s face softened as he set his helmet on the handlebars.  He wasn’t sure if he should say it or not, but it came out anyway:  “You know I’d never let you get hurt, right?”

Shiro made a small noise of question in the back of his throat.  

“I won’t let you fall.  I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

“...Yeah.” Keith could’ve sworn he felt Shiro’s arms clinging to him tighter.

“What do you think this place is?”  Keith asked, looking up at it.  The wood panels holding the place together were barely intact, clearly beaten by the years, but it was surviving anyway.  Holding in the sun.

Shiro slipped off the back of the bike, walking toward it.  “There are some bases the Garrison has set up around the desert that they used to use.  Might be one of them.  They usually wipe them off the map when they’re done though.”

“They forgot one.”

“If I’m even right,” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck and smiled meekly.  “Maybe there was just some crazy guy who likes living dangerously in the middle of the desert.”

“A recluse.”

“That’s an understatement.  But who can blame him?  It’s peaceful out here.”

Shiro turned his eyes to the skies and Keith did the same, letting the silence around them actually sit, opening himself to the music in silence.  The desert walls were mostly gone from around them, just giving them space, giving them their peace.

Shiro turned toward the shack, putting his hands on his hips, assessing the place.  He walked to the front door and tried jiggling the handle.  “Locked...  Here.  Help me lift this.  Careful of your hand though.”

It looked like an old end of a telephone pole smashed through the window.  Keith went around to the other side and rooted himself to the ground.  Together, they heaved the large chunk of wood out of the way and let it drop a few feet from the shack.  

“There,” Shiro hummed happily, dusting his hands off.  He slipped his jacket off and carefully nudged the remnants of glass over the window’s ledge before draping it over.  “Birthday boy first or should I go first?”

Keith leapt over the window and inside as agile as a monkey, smiling all the while.  

“Be careful,” Shiro harped.  

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Keith called back.  “It looks like the worst that’s gotten in here was a mouse or two.”

Shiro leapt over the window and shook his jacket out.  He turned, letting his eyes take in the place.  “Wow.  It’s kind of cozy in here.”

Keith laughed, “I was just going to say that it feels like I’m about to freeze into a popsicle.”

“So dramatic.”

“Just cold.”

“We’re in a desert!”  

There was sand covering everything, but everything wasn’t all that much to begin with.  A table in the center that was still on four legs loyally.  A couch...but the thing was wrecked, more sand than cotton.

“Look at this,” Keith said, dusting off some equipment in the corner.  He coughed, waving the puff of sand from his face.  “What do you think these do?”

Shiro walked over and inspected over Keith’s shoulder.  “Couldn’t say.  Maybe we can get Matt out here one day to see if they have any life left in them.”

“Alien-calling devices.”

“Maybe there’s life on Kerberos after all.”

Keith looked up, smile still on his face, but he could feel his heart going cold.  He needed to say something about his dream.  He'd delayed enough.  Maybe the time would never feel right - like now, where the words got tangled and choked up in his throat, his gut twisting nervously.  “Hey, Shiro,” he forced out.  “About Kerberos...”

“Yeah?”

 _You’re going to die_.

Shiro was still smiling brightly as he turned to check out a door.  “What about it?”

Keith took in a deep breath.  Tried to do it.  Couldn’t.  “Oh, I, um, you’re probably right.  If they can reach to Kerberos, do you think I could contact you from here?”

Shiro chuckled.  “I dunno.  Maybe.  If we could get the thing working that’d be a good start.”  With one mighty tug that shook the whole entire shack, he managed to jerk the door open, revealing a bathroom with a tiny shower and all.

“Yeah...  Wow, look at that.  A shower.”

“I thought this would be a closet or something.  Here’s the door to outside too.  How weird.”

“Does the water run?”  Keith wondered.

There was the sound of a small squeak and a bit of uncomfortable spluttering before the unmistakable noise of flowing water could be heard.

“Nice,” Shiro said.  “Where is this water coming from, you think?  Looks clean.  We could live out here if we wanted.”

“What would we eat, genius?”  Keith snorted and crossed his arms.

“Oh, I don’t know.  There are a lot of rabbits out there,” Shiro winked, turning back to Keith.  

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

Keith tried so hard to keep his face straight but a laugh bubbled from him and he shook his head, fond.  "That rabbit was my _friend_."

"Well, not him.  Or his relatives.  Or his friends."

"Or his species.  ...I guess that’s it for the tour,” Keith said.  “Besides the bedroom, which consists of uh, a room.  And a bed.”

“I think I’d rather take the couch honestly,” Shiro chuckled, raising a foot to poke at the springs.  He took a seat on the ground instead, just in the middle, looking around happily, content as a bug.

Keith plopped himself down beside him, crossing his legs and looking around too, trying to see what Shiro saw that made him smile so widely.  It was just a plain room with too much sand and abandonment.  It was alright, Keith supposed.  Better than the Garrison.

Shiro said, “I don’t think I want to tell Matt about this place.”

Keith looked over.  Shiro was casting a fond look at everything still, like this was his home.  “Why not?”

“Because we found it together.  It kind of feels like ours, doesn’t it?”

“Ours…”

“Yeah?  Our shack, out in the middle of the desert.  Our table, our weird science equipment things, our bathroom, our shower, our dusty bed, even our destroyed little couch.  It’s ours now.”

“Until the old hermit who got lost finds his way back home.”

Shiro laughed heartily, the sound rumbling from his gut.  “We can share, can’t we?  But seriously, there’s a Garrison logo on the equipment.  It’s their old one, before they updated it.”

“Is that what that was?”  Keith murmured, casting his eyes over to the ugly little rocket ship.  

“It makes sense you wouldn’t recognize it.  They changed it almost forty years ago.”

“So they really did abandon this place.”

“Yeah.  Look at the state it’s in.  We’re probably the first people to enter it in decades.”

Keith looked back at the couch, mind fresh with that knowledge.  And suddenly, he was sort of maybe getting why Shiro was looking around at everything with such a happy spark in his eyes.

Ours.  

Keith could see it in his mind's eye: cleaning the sand off of everything, making it livable.  Getting some material and padding to make the couch something they could actually use.  Sweeping the sand out as well as they could.

Together.  Keith and Shiro’s.

“I do like it,” Keith voiced.  “Our place.  Like a secret hideout.”

“It is,” Shiro nodded.  “Kind of like a treehouse that we can put, 'no one else allowed' on.  Only that sign is the expansive miles of hot and dirty desert.”

“Why even go back?”  Keith decided.  He was only half-joking.  “We can just patch up some walls, fix the couch, hunt some game, and we’re good to go.”

“That sounds nice.  Peaceful.”

“Right?  Who needs the rest?  I wouldn’t mind living in a world with only you.”  Keith said without thinking.  When he realized what he’d said, he went as red as a tomato.

“Oh,” Shiro blushed too.

“Oh...  I, um, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it like...  I just said something stupid.  Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just be a normal person for like two seconds and not say stupid things?  That would be...amazing.”  He forced out a laugh, nerves frying his brain.  Words fumbled out of his mouth and he zipped his lips up tightly before he could say anything else.

“Keith,” Shiro laughed softly, the sound rich and warm.  “Just be you.”

Keith groaned.  “That’s a horrible idea...  I just know it’s only a matter of time before I scare you away,” Keith murmured, thinking, with a sinking gut, of the time not so long ago when Shiro turned to him, face filled with horror and disbelief when he saw the real side of Keith.

“You're still going on about that?  I don’t think there’s anything you can do that’d scare me away now.”

“You say that,” Keith said uneasily.  “And...I’ll admit, I’ve never met anyone like you, but...  I don’t know.  Matter of time...”

Shiro was already shaking his head.  “Try me.  I don’t know what it is about you, but I just know there’s nothing you can do.”

“Sometimes I lose my temper,” Keith warned.

Shiro chuckled and said fondly,  “Yeah, you do sometimes.”

Keith just stared.  “I just _attacked_ someone.”

Shiro peered up at the ceiling thoughtfully.  “Well.  You _were_ defending my honor...”

“I went through your room without permission and tried to find my knife.  I went through all your private things.”

Shiro shrugged.  “Look all you want; I’m not worried.”

Keith huffed, wrinkling his nose.  “...I didn’t actually do that.”

Shiro chuckled.  “I have nothing to hide from you anyway.”  He shrugged.  “Even if you had, I’m fine with it.  It’s nothing.”

“It’s not _nothing_ ,” Keith sighed, irritation with himself building again.  He scratched the back of his head roughly, trying to put the frustration into words.  “You’re just...”  He heaved a huge sigh and groaned, tossing his neck back.  “I swear to you I’ve been trying _really hard_ to change myself and still I’m the one getting into fist fights and hurting people.  It’s like I’m cursed to be this way or something.  Why?  How do you do it?  How do you stay so calm all the time?”

“Calm…  I guess when you let yourself slow down enough, you see things from a different light.  You have to be patient, analyze and assess what’s in front of you, whether it be a person or a crazy test, and let yourself just do what you can do.  Panicking won’t help.  Patience yields focus.”

“Oh, yeah?  Is that the secret?”  Keith sighed wearily.  “I’m the opposite of patient.”

“I don’t think so.  I think you can be very patient, but sometimes the world’s not so kind to you and you hit back.  Just make sure you really mean it before you do.  That’s all I’m trying to say.  Not that I have any place to lecture you.  I just mean…maybe it’ll help you.”

“Maybe it will,” Keith said softly.  “...Thanks, Shiro.  I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“All I can ask.  That’s more than enough.”

A comfortable silence fell over them.  It did have a certain feel in there, a feel of “theirs” that made it restful in ways Keith wasn’t sure he had ever known.  It made it easy to feel vulnerable.

His vulnerability didn’t bother him in front of Shiro any more than it bothered him in front of himself. It was easy to get caught up in Shiro's carefree moods.  But Kerberos was still very real.  And he had to tell him somehow, tell him right, so he listened the best that Keith could get him to listen.  Keith couldn’t mess this up.

Shiro poked his cheek.  Keith looked over.

There was concern settled on his smile.  “You’re thinking hard.  What is it?”

“Oh...  Nothing...”

“Today’s your birthday.  Relax a little.  You deserve it.  Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow, right?”

Keith bit his lip.  “You’re right.  Tomorrow.”

Shiro nodded.  “There we go.  Good.  We should fix it up,” Shiro said, nudging his head toward the shack, swaying his foot out to bump against Keith’s.  “I like it here.”

“Yeah...  Me too.”  Keith’s lungs filled with air as he inhaled long and deep, trying to let go of all the tension knotted in his chest.  “The quiet’s nice.  Somehow it’s not lonely.”  He wiggled his toes in his boots and looked back out the splintered glass window, over the rolling desert plains.  “It’s different out here.  Do you feel it sometimes?  Like a pull of some sort, right into the desert.  Tugging right from your chest to draw you away.”

Shiro pursed his lips.  “Like, wanting to escape?”

“No, that’s different.  This feels more like…  Well, like something’s calling, telling me to search.  Almost like a physical call.  Like when you turn because you hear something, but nothing’s there.  Or you think you see someone, but they’re gone.”

“I can’t say that I do.”

“I like the Garrison but out here it just feels…  I don’t know.  Like it was meant to be.”  He blushed madly.  “That sounds so corny.  It’s too quiet out here.”

“The quiet makes you sentimental?”  Shiro laughed, bumping him with his shoulder.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Stop that,” Keith shoved back, laughing breathlessly.  He laughed even harder as Shiro tumbled over dramatically and sprawled out over the floor.

“I’m wounded,” Shiro grunted, but laughed too.  “Jeez, keep your power in check, will you?  I’m only a small weak mortal.”

“You’re almost double my height and weight.”

“Exaggerate much?  I can still see you down there somewhere.”

“But only when the weather’s good, right?  Because of the altitude.  Get it?”

“Yeah, right after a good storm to clear out the pollution.”

“God,” Keith snorted, shaking his head and trying his hardest to look disgruntled and not amused.  It didn’t work.  He tossed himself down beside Shiro so they both stared up at the ceiling.  There were some spiders, and Keith never thought he’d say this, but they were kind of cute up there, like they had been keeping house all this time, just helping out.

Keith took a deep breath.  The deepest breath he’d taken.  It was a Shiro thing, had been Shiro’s thing since they first met, but Keith thought maybe he was getting it now.  A deep, slow breath to take everything in.  To give himself the time to just...absorb.  He felt warm and golden and like nothing could hurt either of them here, way out in the desert, just the two of them, in this abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere.  The wide open sky was more of a feeling, the brightest of blues, home to a few fuzzy clouds.

It was too perfect.  He wished they could stay there forever, just the two of them.

Keith took in a deep breath.  “Here.”  He looked over at Shiro, features rich with color in the brightness of the desert’s sun.  “I’d run here,” Keith decided right then and there.  “I feel safe here.  ...Our secret hideout.  If there’s nowhere for me to go.  I’ll come here.”

Shiro smiled crookedly, so soft.  “And I’d come find you.  Every time.”

A chuckle escaped Keith.  “How often do you think I’m going to get in trouble?”

“How many times do you think you’ll need to come running here?”  Shiro shrugged.  “I saw you with that butter knife.  You probably have one on you right now, don’t you?”

Keith snorted.

“Don’t you?”

Keith evaded him, rolling off his back and onto his stomach, pressing his face into his crossed arms.  He swung his legs.

“Keith.”

“Not today, sir,” he murmured, cocking an eyebrow in Shiro’s direction.  “But what would you do if I did?”

Shiro sighed.  “Nothing.  It’s your birthday after all.”

Keith laughed.  “Will you let me get away with murder too?”

“Depends on whose murder.”

Wood banged in the distance from the force of the wind, gathering Shiro’s attention.  He twisted, catching sight of the color of the sky.  “Shoot.  We should get going.  Want to head into town?  There’s something I need to pick up.”

“Sure,” Keith said, standing up and away from Shiro, trying to dust all the sand off of himself.  “If you can stomach my piloting.”

Shiro nodded wisely.  “It’s not death I fear, but Keith’s piloting…”

Keith made to elbow Shiro in the arm, but he danced away, laughing.  Taking one last look around the shack, he followed Shiro out the window.  “Trust me.  I know what I’m doing.”

“I will.  I do.  I’m just stunned breathless by your maneuvering.”

Keith couldn’t keep the cat-like smile off his face.  “Impressing the one and only best-pilot-this-Garrison-has-ever-seen Shirogane.”

“Oh, stop playing,” Shiro said without any heat.  He positioned himself on the back of the speeder and then scooted cozily against Keith as he took his seat.  “We both know the second you stepped into the building that I was bumped down a few slots.”

“Who are the other slots?”

“Takashiluvr, of course.”

Keith’s cheeks flamed.  Lowly, he said, “you know, that was me…”

“Oh, yeah?”  Shiro laughed lowly.

“I’ll admit to it.  But only to you.”

“Well, I’m honored to be your secret bearer.  Too bad I didn’t know that sooner though.”

Keith laughed.  A year ago, he had celebrated his birthday alone, without family, without friends.  No one remembered the day, not even Keith.  A year ago, he had no one to talk to about anything.  He was always the odd one out.  And now?

He could feel Shiro behind him, tilting back on the speeder, staring into the sky as stars began to to gather.  Keith cleared his throat, twiddling with the helmet in his hands nervously.  “...Thank you for today, Shiro.  For being my friend.  I know I’ve been unreasonable and I probably still will be from time to time, but...I trust you.  You’re the only one.”

“...Thank you for trusting me.  It takes courage.”

Keith hummed in agreement.  “You make it easy.”

Shiro huffed out a small laugh.  “I’m glad,” he said softly.

Keith startled as he felt Shiro’s fingers touch his temple from behind.  Slowly, they dragged back along his scalp, running his fingers through Keith’s hair.  Keith froze.  He felt something soft and warm touch against the back of his neck but he was stuck - rooted to the spot, and he was too breathless to ask what it was he felt.  

Shiro's two hands return to his waist.  He patted Keith’s hip.  He cleared his throat, voice low.  “Ready when you are.”

Nodding quickly, Keith shakily turned the key in the speeder.

He drove a bit calmer this time around, his brain too wired and crazed to focus on anything but the fact that Shiro was behind him and might’ve kinda kissed his neck.  Maybe.  

It was so soft.  Whatever it was felt like heaven…  The back of his neck got goosebumps just thinking about it.

“Okay, pull in here,” Shiro said, pointing out a parking spot.  “Stay.  Here.”  He said as soon as he’d slipped off the speeder.  “I’ll be right back.”

“I can’t go in with you?”  It was getting dark outside, more blue than yellow, and the warmth of the light from inside the stores around them was too inviting.

“No can do.  I’m just going to pick something up.”

He disappeared inside and Keith followed him with his eyes, Shiro bathed in the shop’s bright yellow lights, a deep contrast to the dark blue of outside.  He was smiling and speaking animatedly to the lady at the front register.  Everything he did, whether he be close or far, warmed Keith’s heart.  He came out seconds later, with his hands holding onto a large box.

“Happy birthday, Keith,” he said, opening the top.  The string lights from the shops’ front gave off a warm glow around them.  

“A-another?”  Keith’s eyes went wide.  “And strawberry cake!  My favorite.  How’d you know?”

“Why did you think I took you out last time?  You told me last time we came here,” Shiro chuckled, but his eyes were reflecting the twinkling of Keith’s eyes.  They both were made from gold.  “All yours.  Sorry I sort of made you pick it up yourself.  I meant to get it last night, but I figured it wouldn’t be as fresh especially if it’d just have to sit on my dresser.  I was going to take you to the arcade today.”

“Really?”  Keith laughed, feeling helplessly charmed.  “I love it, Shiro.  Thanks.”  Years.  It’d been years since a real cake.  Today, he’d gotten a cupcake and a cake all in one day.  And this one was nice.  Decorated to perfection, soft dollops of whipped cream lining the top edges with his name written in fancy curly letters in the center, _Happy Birthday, Keith_.

God.  When was the last time he felt this warm and happy and loved?  It felt like Keith would never be able to thank Shiro for this, no matter how hard he tried.  

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, tilting his head as he smiled at Shiro.  He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life, no matter what happened in the future, near or far.  Shiro was his first real friend who gave him his first real birthday cake and gifted him, so selflessly, the best day he’d ever had.

Shiro grinned in response, but it was nervous, tinged in pink-tipped ears and a smile wrinkled at the ends.  He leaned forward, hesitated clumsily in a little half-trip, and then pressed his lips softly to Keith’s forehead, hands resting on Keith’s shoulders.

It was a little abrupt.  A little awkward.  But it was warm and soft and filled with heart.  When Shiro pulled back, neither he nor Keith were breathing.  Shiro’s face was beet red and Keith had gone still in shock.

“I, uh...”  Shiro patted his pockets and nodded, looking anywhere but at Keith’s eyes.  He bounced on his heels for a moment before nodding toward the bike.  “Shall we?”

Keith drove like a normal person on the way back, light on and illuminating the pathway ahead.  He could hardly focus on that, all of his thoughts were on Shiro.

The plumpness of Shiro’s lips.  The curve of it, the way it felt soft like nothing Keith had ever felt before.  Just that slight press, barely a whisper of a touch, but it still managed to send Keith breathless with feeling.

He tried to think of society’s rules and wished he’d paid more attention to people at the Garrison.  Was a kiss on the forehead platonic or did it mean more?  Did Shiro just trip and accidentally kiss him when really he had meant to do something else?  Keith was too afraid to ask.  

But he was happy regardless.  Kiss or no kiss, he’d never felt _so much_ in his heart before.

It was late - really late, but Keith didn’t want the night to end.  It felt good this way - _right_ , like Shiro had said.  A certain feeling between them that neither could explain.  Like it was just meant to be. That the stars had decided it ages ago.

“Keith,” Shiro hummed in his ear, voice soft.

He cleared his throat gently.   “…Yeah?”

“Want to stop here?  I’m not ready to go back quite yet, are you?”

“No,” Keith said in relief.  “I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.”

There was a raised rock in the distance that Keith drove to, stopping at the base and hopping off.  He held out his hand for Shiro and helped him off the bike.  

“Climbing, huh?”  Shiro said, tilting his head up to get a look.  The stars and moon were bright out there, enough to light up the land for them to see.  In the city, they never would’ve been able to navigate this easily.  

“We can stay down here if you’d like.”

“Nah,” Shiro said, already wedging his foot into the side of the boulder.  “Let’s look at the stars together,” he said.

Keith blinked.  Stargazing.  How long had it been since last time he looked up into the sky with someone he loved beside him?

His father had loved and left him, ripping the trust Keith had right out of the core of his heart.

And now, here was Shiro, stepping up onto this rock with the stars plastered in the sky behind him, offering his hand, asking for Keith to trust him.

He grabbed Shiro’s extended hand and let himself be helped up.

Shiro smiled as Keith joined him, looking up at the breathtaking sight swallowing them whole.  The world seemed bigger out there.  Like there was magic whichever direction you wanted to walk.  Swirls of purples and blues littered with the magic of stars.  It was really something else.

“One day, Keith,” he said softly.  “One day, we’ll be up there.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmured.  “You sooner than later.”

“I wish you were coming with me.”

“Next time...” Keith promised, crossing his legs as he took a seat.  “I’ve got to let you have a bit of fun first though.”

Shiro chuckled as he followed Keith down, sprawling his legs out long and stretching.  He was quiet for awhile.  “I worry about you, you know.  The people in school...the way they treat you...  It’s like you’re a walking target.”

“I’ll be fine.  I’ve always managed.”

“Your method of managing is exactly what worries me,” Shiro laughed, but there was concern shining in his eyes.  “If I wasn’t there when this _second_ Anthony fiasco happened, how far would it have escalated?  I want to be able to help you in whatever way I can.  I can’t do that from Kerberos.”

Keith inhaled deeply.  “I’ll just be extra good.  I’ll keep my head down.  Mouth shut.  You won’t have to worry.”

“Hmm...  You’ve said that before and then, next day, you had your knife ready for attack.  A fight isn’t worth it - this is your future - even Iverson won’t be able to protect you if that happens.  …Even me.”

“Shiro.  ...What could I say to settle your mind...?”  He turned and stared Shiro right in the eyes, voice going soft and serious.  “Here,” he said, taking out the knife from his back pocket.

“ _You said you didn’t have a knife_ ,” Shiro groaned in exasperation.

Keith’s face glowed red.  “I- Okay, I lied about that.  I _always_ have a knife on me, it’s a _comfort_ thing.  I can’t think without it.”

Shiro heaved a huge sigh.

Keith settled back into his spot, raising the knife above his hand.  “This is a promise: I’m going to follow you.”  He lifted the knife.

“Wait!”  Shiro squawked, hand flying out to catch Keith by the arm.  “Tell me you’re not going to cut your hand.”

Keith looked up at him patiently.

“It’s already damaged!”

Keith sighed.  “It’s a promise thing.  I want you to know I’m serious -”

“Here,” Shiro said, snatching the knife into his hand and jamming it down through his palm.

Keith yelped, hand going out, reaching for him.  “Why would you -”

“So _you_ know _I’m_ serious.  I trust you.  So please.  No more fighting.”

“That’s not how the hand cutting thing works,” Keith despaired softly.  He frowned as he collected Shiro’s hand tenderly in both of his.

“Seal the deal,” Shiro said, wiggling his fingers.  “Palm to palm.”

Keith smiled crookedly, narrowing his eyes.  “That’s _definitely_ not how that works.  I’m supposed to cut my hand too, you know.”

“It is, it is,” Shiro laughed.  “Your hand’s fine.  Come on.”

With one exasperated eye roll and pressed-down smile, Keith carefully slipped his fingers from his glove one at a time.  The wounds were raw still, the scars not even fully closed.  It was almost close enough.  He placed his hand gently over Shiro’s.

“Looks like it hurts,” Keith murmured as he felt the warmth of Shiro’s blood on his skin.  It was shallow, but it’d be there for awhile, a promise between the two of them, a reminder of that very moment together no matter the distance between them.

“This is a blood oath.  You and me...we’re going to travel the stars together.  I promise.”

“Yeah,” Keith whispered.  “You and me.  I promise not to fight.  I promise to follow in your footsteps.”

“Carve your own path, Keith,” Shiro smiled crookedly.  “You’ll be better than me.  I want to see you at the top, no excuses.”

“Yes, Shiro,” Keith whispered, nodding softly, chest welling with emotion.  Someone believed in him.  Pride?  Gratefulness?  He didn’t know what he was feeling, but it was slowly undoing all the disappointment he’d felt over the years.  It was a release like a flood, cleansing away everything that had once hurt him.  It was overwhelming him.

“So, if you see Anthony, what do you do?”

He laughed, the sound unsteady.  He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose.  “You’re drilling me now?”

“I’m your superior officer here, this is a _pop quiz_.”

Keith laughed again, nodding, “Okay, okay, _sir_.  If Anthony’s at the end of the hallway?  Avoid completely.  No eye contact, no breathing, no nothing.”

“And if he comes at you?”

“Run to the nearest teacher.”

“Right.  And if a teacher tries to cause problems for you?”

“I’ll go straight to Iverson.”

“Good.  He’s fair and he wants you to succeed.  Understand?”

Keith smiled, small and laughing.  “Yes.”

“You have another one of those dreams.”

“Uh...”

“Keith.”

“...Iverson?”

“Wrong.  Medic.”

“But the medics don’t do anything.”

Shiro lifted one menacing finger.  “Medic.  They could help with the pain at the very least.  Maybe try some sleeping pills?”

“ _Fine._ Like  _that's_ what I want though, to be trapped in a nightmare.”

“Oh, right..."

"Next."

"You fall and hurt your wrist.  It looks fine, but it hurts you all day.”

“Medic?”

“Eh, that one’s probably fine to just wrap in a splint.  Several days of hurting though and I’d go to the medic.  ...So you fail.”

“Fail?  That was a trick question.  I want another.”

“Okay,” Shiro laughed.  “So demanding.  You have no one to sit with at lunch.”

The smile dropped off Keith’s face.  His mouth twisted into a frown.  “Shiro.”

“ _Go make friends_.”

“I don't want any other friends beside you and Matt.  Besides, everyone _hates_ me.”

“No, they don’t.  I’ve had people asking me about you out of curiosity.  You know how Iverson looks like he’ll stab you through with a pen if you get close to him?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s how you look 99% of the time.  People are scared.”

Keith shifted, heaving out a big sigh as he rolled out his shoulders.  “Maybe if I had a pen, I would...”

“No.”  Shiro held a finger up again.  “No stabbing.  ...Keith, you are one of the sweetest people I’ve met.  I wish you’d let other people see that side of you.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly.  He said the next words as if he were stubbornly prying them from the very depths of his soul:  “My roommate.”

“Lance,” Shiro said in surprise.

“Yeah, him.  He has this friend who comes over sometimes too.  He made me soup once.  ...Maybe them.”

Shiro was silent for awhile.  Curious, Keith looked up to see stars in his eyes.  “...Good, Keith...”  He said so softly that Keith stopped breathing for a moment.  “I’m glad.  That’s great.  I’m glad we’re having this talk.  I worry about you.  About what’d happen if I’m not around and you got kicked out.”

Keith hummed.

“Not that it’s going to happen, but just say it did.  Say the Garrison gets flooded and has to cancel all its activity.  Where would you go?”

“To get a plumber.”

“Very _funny_.  I’m serious, Keith.  Do you have anywhere?  Anywhere at all?”

Keith shrugged, looking away, trying to disengage from the topic.  “Nowhere.  I have nowhere to go if I get kicked out.”

“Nowhere?”  Shiro whispered quietly, his earlier concern expanding and maturing into something else.

Keith shook his head.  

Shiro absorbed that slowly, frown growing in his brow.  His voice was low when he said,  “What were you thinking of doing if you had gotten kicked out earlier this year?”

Keith bit back a laugh, the sound dark and bitter.  It brought him back to who he had been before, distrustful of even Shiro, hurt and wounded and would strike out at anything.  Anyone.  It hadn’t been a good time.  He’d been desperate and alone.  He had thought he’d always be like that.

Remembering brought too much pain and he didn’t want this night to sour.  He closed his eyes tightly and grunted, shrugging.  He hoped Shiro would let it go, but -

“Keith?”

“Shiro,” he echoed, trying to be patient.  That ugly thing was there inside of him again and he squirmed helplessly in its grip.

“Where would you have gone?”  Shiro just wasn’t giving it up.  

Keith hated the way his eyes were getting wider, filling to the brim with more concern than was warranted.

Keith shrugged sharply.  “I don’t know.  Away.  Does it matter?  I just promised you I wouldn’t let it happen.  It’s a moot point.”

“Away,” Shiro echoed, face innocently confused.  “Like another state?”

It was like trying to evade a child.  Keith huffed, looking out into the darkness beneath them.  The long emptiness that the hills rolled out, spanning forever into the distance.  Keith groaned.  “Walking.  That was the plan.  I would’ve just walked.  I would’ve let my feet take me down the pathway from the Garrison and away.  Maybe would’ve followed a rabbit off a cliff or something.  God knows.”

There was a crushing horrible silence.  

Keith said, trying to patch up the holes he just poked in Shiro’s happiness, “There weren’t many alternatives.  I turned eighteen this year.  The orphanage was out, not that I’d ever want to go back anyway.  I didn’t have any friends, any distant family.  No one I knew would’ve even considered taking me in.  I didn’t know you then, had no clue that I’d ever know you or ever have anyone in my life that cared if I lived or died.  It was tiring and hopeless.  There was literally no one to turn to.  No one to wait for.  It was just me.  As far as I knew, that was all it ever would be.  The Garrison was the last strip of road for me.”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered sharply, almost a gasp of a prayer more than anything else.  It was harsh and brutal.  The pain felt like a slap to Keith’s face.  

Keith slammed his eyes shut.  “Don’t cry.  Jesus, don’t cry.”  He wasn’t sure who he was talking to.  “It didn’t happen, did it?  I’m still here.  And I have you now.  And Matt.  Things are different, Shiro.  They’re really different.”

“I had no idea, Keith.  That’s what you meant...when you said, back at the shack, if you had nowhere else to go...  I didn’t realize you meant it as an alternative to _this_.  If I had known back then, I would’ve tried to set up something for you so you wouldn’t have to worry.  That must’ve been a horrible thought...feeling like you had no one.  I’m so-”

“-Jesus, Shiro, no.  This isn’t your fault.  Who knows what I would’ve done?  Maybe I would’ve found that shack.  Maybe I would’ve found a village.  I don’t know.  Maybe I could’ve snagged a job at the arcade.  Maybe we would’ve met there, even then...”

“Keith,” he said again, sadly, but it was more stable.  Understanding rather than shock.

“I’m okay now,” Keith hummed, squeezing Shiro’s hand.  “Seriously.  Every day I’ve spent with you has been a dream.  More than that.  No one’s ever treated me with kindness and patience like you do.  It’s helped me more than you can ever know.”

Shiro watched him, eyes soft and so lost in him that Keith felt stripped bare.  “You deserve all the kindness and patience in the world, Keith.”

He loved to hear Shiro.  He could probably sit there on that rock for the rest of his life and listen to Shiro.  He loved to hear the sweet words that came from his mouth because they were always a surprise, always so healing.

“You’re amazing, Shiro,” is what he said, but beneath his words, his heart was feeling so much more, bursting with so much emotion that, and despite just telling Shiro not to cry, he was the one crying.

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, grabbing his hand gently in his.  “Remember when Ryou came over and we were talking about our pasts?”

“Oh, yeah."  He sniffed around a water-y chuckle, "Old man cologne.”

“Okay, it was _deodorant_ and I was basically a child, I had no idea what to use.”

Keith chuckled under his breath.  “No, me too.  I get it.  I had to ask my housemothers.  What about it?”

“It wasn’t everything Ryou made it sound like, you know.  The people?  The dances?  I felt like I was constantly hiding from everyone at the school.  I didn’t want to dance with any of them.”

“Did you anyway?”  Keith snorted.  He could see Shiro with several people on different arms.  “I mean, you do have two arms.  You could get double the dances done at once.”

“And two legs too.  No.  I couldn’t say yes to one or else everyone would assume their turn was next.  I didn’t want to dance with them.”  He licked his lips nervously, shifting to the side.  “You...  Uh, did you ever want to dance?”

“You remember the story, right?”  Keith snorted.  “I was in the corner the _whole time_.  No one wanted to dance with me.  It was fine.”  It was old news.  He shrugged.

“I find that hard to be true.”

“Well, believe it because it’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

Keith chuckled.  Shiro was always spoiling him.  “I’m telling you -”

Shiro stood suddenly, back to Keith.

Keith blinked in surprise.  “Oh.  Ready to go?”

“No...”  He turned in one sharp movement, cheeks flaming red, eyes angled upward, unable to look at Keith.  He had his hand out, offering it.  Keith stared down into his palm.  He could see the lines there, softly curving through Shiro’s skin, interrupted by the mark that Shiro had carved into his own flesh, a promise that they’d fly together through the stars, side by side.

“I know it’s probably not the same,” Shiro said softly, “but, uh...did you want to dance...with me?”

Keith blinked for a moment, still staring at his hand.  “Dance?”

“Uh.  Yeah.  We don’t have to.  But _I_ would like to...if _you_ would like to...”  He swallowed hard, still picking out stars from the sky, looking anywhere but at Keith.

Keith smiled, tilting his head in question, but he grabbed Shiro’s hand and followed him up.  “Out here?  Without music?”

“Isn’t there, though?”  Shiro breathed in relief, flashing Keith a grin.  He closed his eyes and tilted his face heavenward, squeezing Keith’s hand lightly.  “Listen.”

There was wind.  It was gentle and rolled around the desert floor in playful swirls, pushing it like stardust throughout the land beneath them.  

And, as they stood there, side by side, hand in hand, listening to the night, Keith thought he could understand why people said that stars twinkle, like it was an audible thing.  Their energy was contagious, running through their very souls and prompting them up, prompting them closer.  

Keith turned to face Shiro, holding up his other hand, reaching for Shiro’s.  “Yeah.  I hear it.”

Shiro’s face softened as he laced their hands together.  “Our first dance.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly and hung his head, face flaming with embarrassment.  “Yeah.”

He began to sway them back and forth, softly, to the swirling of the universe.  Keith chuckled as Shiro closed his eyes, swaying his head as if to an actual song.  He started to hum.

Keith listened for a while, just watching and enjoying the view.  Shiro opened an eye.  “Did you recognize it?”

“It was an actual song?”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Shiro laughed.

Keith laughed too, reaching his foot out to gently nudge Shiro’s ankle.  “I didn’t mean it like _that_.”

“It was a real song.  Didn’t listen to music in high school either?”

“Uh. Not really.  I mean, I heard it around, but music’s not really my thing.”

“No?  Oh, we’ve got to change that.”  Shiro started to hum again, twirling them over to the other side of the rock.

Keith chuckled, moving along with Shiro, listening and watching.  He recognized the chorus when Shiro looped back around and he joined in, humming softly.

Shiro grinned widely, the song breaking off.  “Fast learner.  How am I not surprised?”

“It was like the same tune over and over,” Keith laughed, letting his face fall into Shiro’s shoulder in exasperation.  “If you keep praising me, my head’s going to get so bloated I’ll float away.”

“It’s all the praise you deserve.”

“ _Float_.”

Shiro couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing his hands with Keith’s tighter.  They met each other’s eyes, pulled in by gravity.  There was something right about the two of them.  Something that transcended even their understanding.

“...Keith?”

“Mm?”

“Are you happy here?”

Keith smiled.  He knew the answer without even having to think.  “I’m happy with you.”

Red blossomed all over Shiro’s face, who drew himself up tall, eyes fluttering wide.  Keith laughed again, humming softly where Shiro had left off, still swaying.

Shiro slowed to a stop and Keith followed suit, tilting his head curiously as he watched Shiro’s face change.

Shiro took in a deep breath, squeezing Keith’s hand again.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

The stars were glowing in their places set against that deep purple sky.  Keith would never forget it.  He nodded encouragingly.  If it was from Shiro, he’d take whatever he’d have to say.

Shiro was biting his lip, looking down at their hands.  He still had Keith’s hand in his, rubbing the knuckles subconsciously.  “I...I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say.”

Keith shrugged.  “I won’t tell anyone.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyebrows worrying high up his forehead.  “I like you,” he whispered.  

Keith furrowed his brow, not understanding the strife that Shiro seemed to be going through.  It couldn’t be...  “I like you too, Shiro,” he said, voice too innocent, too naive.  

Shiro flinched.  “No, not like that.”  He swallowed again. “I _like you_.  …More than I should.  And I...I think it’s...it’s more than even that...  I like you _so much_.  I...I’ve been meaning to tell you for ages now and I’ve let it go for so long that now it’s at a place where I just...  Everything’s all blurred and confused.  ...I feel like we get along really well.  I feel like I...I needed to say it out loud.”

Keith blinked.  He leaned in slowly, leaning up on the tips of his toes, examining the red in Shiro’s face, the glossiness of his eyes, and the way he tried to shift away, like Keith’s gaze was burning him.  Their hands were still clasped together, soft and warm.  

“…You like me…?”  Keith repeated softly.

Shiro nodded, the motion curt and vulnerable.  “I think from the first time I saw you there was…something.  I couldn’t explain it.  I just…  You’re just…amazing, Keith.  I’ve never met anyone like you.  You’re kind and sweet and brilliant and there isn’t a day that goes by where I’m not excited to see you.”

Keith’s mouth was pulling up, stretching into a smile.  “You like me? The famous Takashi Shirogane?  You like me.”

Shiro groaned softly.  “Keith…”

“Shiro,” Keith laughed openly, the sound ringing around them like bells.  “Ah, I’m glad you said something.  ...I’ve liked you too.  More than I should.  For a long time now.”

Shiro looked up quickly.  “You do?”  He said in surprise.

“How could I not?”  Keith said fondly, squeezing Shiro’s fingers back.  “I thought you knew…  Matt alludes to it enough.  What did you think the _Takashiluvr_ thing was about?.”

“I didn’t want to assume!  I thought _you_ knew.  But none of us ever directly addressed it  …I thought you were just trying to let me down easy.”

“No.  Not at all,” Keith laughed.  “I’m glad…  I was planning on keeping it with me to the grave.”

“Why?”  Shiro squawked.  

Keith shrugged, pulling back his shoulders.  “Look at me.”

The warmest smile lit up Shiro’s face.  “I am.  You’re wonderful.”

Keith laughed and then sighed.  "I want you to find your true potential.  It’s not with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?  Who beats my every record without even trying.”

“Oh, I try now.”

“Someone like you?  Who has the biggest kindest heart I’ve ever known?”

“I’m not sure where you’re getting that from.”

“Someone like you.  Smart, brave, funny, caring.  Someone like you: Keith.  You’re amazing.  The only one who can’t see it is you.”

Keith grumbled under his breath at the praise, but smiled at Shiro.  “You’re all of those things and more.  The first time I saw you, I thought you had a halo.  The light was shining behind you and lit up your head.  It was ridiculous.”

Shiro laughed.  “We have a lot of lights at the Garrison.”

“God,” Keith snorted.  The jest fell out of his face as he thought hard, biting his lip.  “Come sit,” he said softly, giving Shiro’s hands a gentle tug.  Keith released one of Shiro’s hands and nestled himself down onto the ground, tilting his face toward the night sky.

Shiro laid down beside Keith, humming fondly as he nervously laced their hands together.  They had been holding hands all night, but it was somehow different now, knowing.  The movement was tentative, but Keith met him halfway with a shy smile.

“I’m glad you told me,” Keith said, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“Me too...  I was afraid to, honestly.  I was more than grateful to be just friends with you.  But Matt said I should tell you.  That I was driving him nuts with my teenage angst.”

Keith laughed.  “You?  Teenage angst?”

“Apparently so.  I didn’t think I was that bad…”

“I guess you can be pretty dramatic sometimes,” Keith sighed, closing his eyes in bliss.  The space beside him was warm against his side, pressed tightly and holding on.  He hadn’t even allowed himself to hope for something like this, but here Shiro was anyway.  Keith couldn’t have been happier.  This was all he had ever wanted and more.

“Hey, Keith?”  Shiro asked gently.  “How do you do it?  Of course we all love space, but it takes more than that to get a full ride scholarship into the Garrison and be where you are.”

Keith smiled slyly, “You mean ‘it takes more than that to beat my scores’, don’t you?”

Shiro chuckled and then shrugged.  A falsely modest smile spread across his face.

Keith laughed loudly, nudging Shiro playfully with his elbow.  Feeling so absurdly fond that it made him daring, he leaned into Shiro’s ear so closely his lips brushed against his skin.  “You are so full of yourself, Shirogane.”

Keith expected Shiro to get flustered, or at the very least blush, but he didn’t.  He smiled and said gently, “No.”  He rolled over onto his side and propped himself up with one elbow, switching out one hand to hold Keith’s with the other.  “I’m just proud of you.  I know how much work it’s taken for me to get where I am.  And you’ve surpassed that in hardly any time at all.  I’m more than happy with where I am, it’s like a dream come true.  But thinking about you and all the different roads in your future…  Limitless.  You’re already so amazing now, imagine what you’ll be like in years.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I already told you I liked you, you don’t need to soften me up anymore.”

Shiro laughed softly.  “You know I’m not.”

It was quiet for awhile, a gentle silence that Keith didn’t know could exist before he met Shiro.  Companionable silence, fuller and loved.

Shiro said softly, eyes drifting to their hands.  “This place is my home.”  The words are fragile, like glass, sharp with an unspoken pain, like they’d been broken before and the edges had been sharp before he carefully taped them back together.  “In a world where I didn’t really have one.”

Keith’s eyes widened and he felt a shock run through him.  

“…Ryou?”

“I love my brother and my family, don’t get me wrong.  But I just never felt…  I don’t know.  Like I was where I was meant to be.  I’ve always loved space though, so I thought this’d be the best bet.  I had a lot of friends, but the feeling just remained.”

“Me too,” Keith whispered.  

“But lately, I…  I feel like things have changed,” Shiro closed his eyes.

Taking in a deep breath and turning up to the stars, Keith said again, his voice a ghost of a whisper, “Me too.”  He squeezed Shiro’s hand and didn’t let go.

Keith realized that they both came to the Garrison for the same reason: to find their home, a place where they belonged.  And Keith, completely stunned, realized in that moment, that he was finding it finally, in his heart, with Shiro.

Shiro didn’t need the fame or the position.  Shiro was just looking for a place to stand beside someone, and Keith allowed himself to wonder if that place could be beside him.  

He’d never even allowed himself to dream that far.

“When I first read your paper at lunch that one day, remember?  When you were being mentored by someone else.  I think I realized at that moment that you’d be something special, but I never guessed you’d be this special to me.”

Keith swallowed hard, pressing his other hand to his face hard.  “Stop that,” he grumbled, trying to mask the vulnerability in his throat with roughness.

“I’m happy you let me help you,” he said, his words silk in Keith’s ear.  “It’s one of the best decisions of my life.”

Keith thought he might just burst on the spot, his entire face burning red.  But when he looked over at Shiro’s face, he could see his ears were bright red too, and he didn’t feel quite as silly anymore.

“Shiro.”  He looked at him, his Shiro.  “This is the best birthday anyone could’ve ever given me.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Shiro glowed he was smiling so brightly.  He rose his imaginary glass into the air.  “And here’s to many more.  We can have a party next time.  And maybe we can include your new friends too.  Like Lance and his friend.  Maybe there’ll be more.”

Keith clinked a fake glass against Shiro’s.  “Katie says she’s applying.”

“You two would get along really well.  You have that same dark humor.”

“What dark humor?”

Shiro laughed.  “You’re just amused by strange things sometimes.  It’s nothing.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Hmmm,” Shiro pursed his lips, eyes trailing a falling star.  

“Come on, you have to tell me.  You know mine.”

“Hmmm,” he started humming that same song.

Keith pushed himself up and rolled so he was in Shiro’s face.  “You cheated by stealing my file.  I can’t do that unless you want me to get in trouble.  I'll do it, you know.  I know right where Iverson keeps it.”

Shiro’s lips turned up into a grin.  In one sudden movement - so quickly it was more like a reflex than anything - he leaned up, kissing Keith softly on the mouth.  

Keith let out a small surprised gasp.  He hadn’t expected it.  If feeling Shiro’s lips on the back of his neck sent him into a panic, or a peck on the forehead made him melt, a kiss on his mouth he just wouldn’t survive.  He melted into it, his arms that were supporting him going weak.

With a small muffled moan that almost sounded like a question, he clung to Shiro’s arms for support and Shiro tugged Keith closer, supporting his weight, drawing their mouths together.

Keith would never forget that kiss.  Words could not describe it.  The kiss weaved itself into Keith’s mind, stealing away his darkness and filling him with a light that was wholly Shiro’s.

Keith sat beneath the stars, nestled into the side of someone he cherished and trusted.  There was nothing in the world better than that.  Nothing.  Something he had craved for so long - the love and gentleness of another person.  Of his Shiro.  It made the world seem good.  

They pulled apart just as softly as they came together.

Keith tried to remember how to breathe for a moment.  He felt dizzy.

“That was my first kiss,” Keith whispered, placing his fingers to his lips and trying to blink back to himself.

“Yeah,” Shiro was breathing hard.  “Yeah, mine too.”

Their smiles both grew and as they looked into each other’s faces, they laughed together.

Shiro leaned forward and bumped his forehead to Keith’s.  “February 29th,” he breathed.

“Huh?”  Keith tried to look up into his eyes.

“You asked for my birthday.  That’s it.”

“Oh.”  Keith blinked, nodding slowly to himself.  “...Leap Day.  We just had it, didn't we?"

"Yeah," Shiro breathed out a laugh.

"Wow..."  He swallowed hard, still trying to catch his breath.  "Wow.  ...Well, I hope that gives me enough time to come up with something as good as today...”

It wasn’t even that funny, but Shiro started laughing and that got Keith laughing and they both held each other's faces, swaying back and forth to the music that wasn’t there, but sort of was, humming together off-tune.  Just smiling.  Just holding each other.

It was late.  So late.  If anyone had caught them, they would’ve been in so much trouble, but no one did.  And even if they had, it would’ve all been worth it.  They would trade whatever they could if they could always be that happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Chat with me [on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	12. Chapter 12

 

Keith couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.  It would’ve almost been embarrassing if he wasn’t so damn happy.  He tried once to rub the grin out of his cheeks, but it didn’t work, so he figured it wasn’t a problem.  

He sought Shiro out during lunch, head turning this way and that.  And there he was.

There was no one more beautiful than Shiro inside and out.  His goodness was clearer than crystal, emanating from the depths of his soul.  He was so perfect.

Shiro turned as if called, eyes going bright at the sight of him, grin matching Keith’s.

“There you are,” Shiro called across the cafeteria.  “I got you your favorite.”

“You’re such a liar,” Keith laughed, walking to their table and setting his apple down.  “I could see the cheese from way over there.”

“Hey,” Shiro said, head tilted up, eyes following Keith like he was the sun.

“Hi,” Keith beamed down at him.  He placed his hand gently on Shiro’s jaw and let it sit there for a moment just because he could.  He held Shiro’s gaze for a content moment, before pulling back and taking a seat beside him.  

Matt was there, sitting across the table, watching the two of them with a small smile.

“Hi, Matt,” Keith said after he finally pulled his eyes away from Shiro.

“Hey,” he laughed lowly, still watching the both of them in amusement.  “Have a good birthday?”

Keith nodded vigorously.  “Yeah. Definitely.”

“Good, good.”

“Thanks for helping Shiro with the gloves.”

“They look good on you.  Shiro informed me five hundred times that you have very small, very dainty hands.”

Shiro reddened and Keith and Matt both laughed.

“Do I really?”  Keith said, holding his hand up in front of Shiro.  

Shiro held up his hand beside Keith.  It was almost double the size.  “They’re beautiful.”

“I like your hands,” Keith said, reaching out to gently brush the tips of his fingers against the length of Shiro’s following the veins down to his wrist.  “They’re warm and gentle.  They’re just like you.”

“They’re alright,” Shiro hummed, lacing their fingers together and tugging Keith closer on the bench, “but they’re not as nice as yours.”

Matt closed his eyes in a plea for patience.  He let them have their time together though.

They spent the whole time giggling together.

When the bell rang, they said goodbye to each other a few times before finally actually parting.  Matt was going in the same direction as Keith and they walked together in companionable silence.  

Keith was gazing off into the distance, eyes a bit glazed over in a happy daze.  Matt had to press down a smile.

“Thanks, Matt,” Keith said, turning to him.  

His eyes were more open than Matt thought he’d ever seen them or ever would.  “Hm?”

“For helping Shiro.  With the gloves and the advice and...just...thank you.  For being his friend...and mine.”

“Of course,” Matt shrugged.  “You’re my friend too, so...thank _you_ while we’re thanking here.”

Keith laughed lightly.  “I guess so.”

Matt flashed him a smile before nodding down the hallway.  “That’s my stop.  See you, Keith.”

“Bye, Matt.”  

They both stopped.  Matt didn’t go his way and Keith didn’t go his.  They waited.

Matt opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.  He struggled for a moment for words.  Cringing, he said, “...You’re going to be alright?  You didn't tell him about the dream, did you?”

Keith’s stomach dropped, but he rose above it.  Inhaled deeply.  “...Your dad.  He hasn’t said anything about the mission yet?”

Matt shook his head.  “He can’t tell us if we have it or not.  I’m not even sure he knows for certain.  Nothing’s final yet, but we should get the news any day now...  Have you told Shiro?”

“No.  Yesterday was...  I didn't want to ruin it.  He would probably just think it’s just nerves anyway.”

“What else would it be, Keith?”  Matt asked, rocking back on his heels as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Lowering both his head and his voice, he said, “It feels real.  I can feel it even now - pressure in my arm.”

“Maybe it’s the weather,” Matt looked down.  “...Look, just...  I dunno.  It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine.  You’re my friend too.  You and Shiro are both important to me.  You’re the two first friends I’ve ever made.”

Matt looked up sharply, surprise in his eyes.  Emotion settled, leaving behind a softness as he stared at Keith anew.  “...Two of many more.”

Keith let out a small laugh.  “I dunno.  Maybe.  ...I can’t tell you not to go.  But I just think....”  He struggled for a moment.  He didn’t know what he wanted.

“We’re not even there yet, Keith.  No one has the job.  You shouldn't worry.”

“Yeah.  Thanks, Matt.”

“You’d better go to class though, or you’re going to be late.”

Keith nodded and hummed.  He offered one last wave before walking away.

He _had_ to tell Shiro.  But even just thinking about it made his throat tighten and his stomach clench painfully.  It affected him so strongly, how could he possibly manage remaining calm enough to tell Shiro everything?

Neither of them had even been accepted yet...

And maybe it was just a dream.  But if it was, why did it feel like he was giving Matt permission to go ahead and die?

Keith drew in a shuddering breath, turning to look over his shoulder at Matt.  He had a light carefree walk.  His arms swung as he took each step, like he should be whistling and bobbing his head to a tune.  

He had never seen Matt afraid, so why could he see it then - the paleness of his skin and the whites of his eyes as he trembled in the captivity of those who hurt tormented them?

 

It’s not that he hadn’t expected it, but it still sent a nasty shock down his back to hear the words.  “Did you hear?”  The whispers would follow him, bright gleaming eyes crawling up from the shadows of his classroom, the halls, the bathrooms.  “Shiro and that Kogane kid...they’re a _thing_ now.”

“Disgusting.  After what Kogane did to Shiro's paperwork?  Like _that’s_ going to last.  What does that Kogane kid have on him?”

“Must be some pretty serious blackmail.  What do you think the golden boy has in his past that he’s that desperate to hide?  And what did Kogane have to do to get it?”

“Sleep with him.”  They laughed.  “He’s a snake.”

“That’s just how it _is_ with people like _them_.”

“They both sicken me.”

“They’re what’s wrong with this world.”

Keith sealed away his words and endured.  He knew his truth, he knew Shiro’s truth.  But it still hurt.  He was sullying Shiro’s reputation and his life when all Shiro had done was help his.  

But they were happy.  

...Or were they?  What if Shiro was hearing all these things too?  What if he was regretting his decision to get close to Keith?  What if -  

“Hi.”

Keith inhaled sharply, eyes opening at the gentle touch of fingers at the base of his neck.  Shiro leaned over his shoulder, face inches from Keith’s as he looked over his classwork with clear excited eyes.  

Keith was in his classroom still.  The bell had just rung only moments before, the students’ nasty words still ringing in his head as they gathered their things, watching closely.  

Shiro cut through the harm, stepping beside Keith, hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

The knot in Keith’s chest unwound and a smile found him.  As he turned his eyes skyward to see Shiro’s face, he saw, once again, as the lights gave Shiro a halo.

His thoughts fell away and he allowed himself to feel happy.

“Hi,” Keith said softly.  “...It’s good to see you.”

The murmurs from behind them rose like a swarm of angry bees.  Shiro smiled brightly down at him.  “You did number nine wrong.”

“What?”  Keith frowned, looking down at his classwork sharply.  He narrowed his eyes.  “...Are you sure?  Then how are you _supposed_ to do it...?”

Shiro took the opportunity to swoop down, sneaking a kiss onto Keith's forehead.  “Just kidding.”  He laughed lowly.  “Got you.”

“ _You_.  Last time I trust you.”  But Keith laughed anyway, getting to his feet and shoving his papers and books into his bag.  “You got out of class early.”

“Yeah, I was just an aide today.  I had nothing left to do at the end, so I just left.  I wanted to see you.  Want to do something?”

Keith groaned as he looked into Shiro’s hopeful face.  “I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“I can help you study.”

Keith snorted.  “If you think you can focus.”

“Hey.  I am _very_ good at focusing.”

“Yeah, _okay_.”  

He liked this.  This gentle ease between the two of them, like nothing they said to each other could hurt.  Like they were two pieces of one puzzle, fitting together with perfect balance.  It was easy to pretend that it was all they’d ever be.  That Keith didn’t have to keep telling himself that Shiro didn’t even have the mission yet.  That it could be someone else.  That he didn’t have to worry.

They chose Shiro’s room to study in; it was nicer, it was quieter.  Keith felt almost more at home in here than he did in his own room. He dropped his bag on the couch, tore his jacket off over his head and tossed himself onto Shiro’s bed.

Books forgotten in his bag, they both laid out together, closing their eyes in relief at another day gone by together.  Everything was still working out perfectly.  Keith fished for Shiro’s hand without opening his eyes.  When he found warmth, he laced his fingers through Shiro’s and squeezed, sighing happily.

This was more than he could’ve ever asked for.  He could feel Shiro shift on the bed, pressing himself in closer.

“Hey, Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“...Have you heard the things people are saying?”

A small hum.  “I’ve heard them.”

“What do you think about it?”

Shiro shrugged.  Keith opened his eyes, blinking up at him.  Of course, he looked unconcerned, his eyes still filled with so much content easiness that Keith felt it rub away his own tension.  “I think they’re probably hurting in some way and it makes them say things that they don’t really mean, not down in their hearts.”

Keith wrinkled his brow and laughed.  “You think so?”

“I really do,” Shiro said.  “I think people are inherently good, deep down in their hearts.  It just takes them a while to find that out.  And then a while longer to change.”

“Like maybe with me,” Keith realized.

Shiro looked over.  “Yeah...  You know how much courage it takes.”

“It’s a journey,” Keith muttered.  “Hey.  Before I forget...  Do you know what everyone’s talking about...something about paperwork?  That I was blackmailing you?  Anthony mentioned something about it too...  Saying you knew.”

“Oh,” Shiro said lowly.  He took a deep breath, letting the air expand his chest.  It rose and fell as he rubbed at his eyes.  “Yeah, I didn’t want it to bother you.  It’s nothing really.  When I’d turned my Kerberos application in, someone broke into Iverson’s office and stole it.  Some people started a rumor about it being you, but I knew it wasn’t.  I know you would never do that.  You were kind of stressed around that time and there was really no reason to add anything else on your plate, so I just figured you didn’t need to hear it.  I'm sorry.  I didn’t mean it as a secret.”

Keith hummed lowly.  He _had_ thought about taking the Kerberos application though, and wasn’t that just as bad?  But...he had stepped away from it deliberately.  That had to mean something too, right?

Shiro said, “I remember you telling me that Anthony mentioned to you he had something of mine.  It was probably the application.”

“...Probably.”

“But Iverson noticed it was missing right away so it wasn’t a big deal.  I just filled out another.  Nothing to worry about.”

“It leaves a bad taste in my mouth...  They said I was blackmailing you to do things for me...”

Shiro chuckled and shrugged.  “It’s kind of funny, isn’t it?  I heard someone saying it was only a matter of time before I got thrown into a jealous angry rage with you, this succubus after my heart and my position.”

Keith sighed.  “Don’t you mean incubus?

“I dunno.  Wouldn’t _you_ know?”

Keith groaned.  “It’s not funny.  What a mess...  Everyone thinks I’m this horrible leech and you’re someone who can’t tell me to fuck off.”

“We both know it’s not true, Keith.  They’ve been saying these things for ages now; it didn’t hurt you back then.  They don't know you yet.  But wait until they do.”

“Ugh, I don’t care about them.  It’s just...frustrating.  You don’t think _Anthony_ has a good heart, do you?”

“I think he does, but he just makes bad decisions.”

He’d been seeing flashes of Anthony in the hallways.  Hearing his dark whispers behind him in class, and he wondered if that could be true.  “What do you think Anthony’s deal is?”  Keith mumbled.

“Him?  He’s seeking approval and praise; he wants to do right and be acknowledged for it.  He worked hard, you can tell.  He’s good at what he does, at what he’s fought for his entire life.  And then, you come in, talking about never having ridden a bike and he thinks maybe he can have your approval easily enough.  Until he sees you fly and that tiny child inside of him realizes it’s going to be even more difficult to get what he wants.  So...he tries to make his path a little bit easier by getting you out of the way.”

“No offense to me, of course.”

Shiro laughed.  “Well, he’s petty too.  But we’re all just trying our best, I think.  Some people just handle their bests better than others.”

“Jeez,” Keith mumbled as he rubbed the back of his nose.  “I wish everyone saw the world like you.  I feel like it’d be a better place if we all did.”

Shiro laughed.  “Well, as much as I wish there were more Keiths running around, I’m glad there aren’t.  You’re exclusive.  And you’re _mine_.”

Keith giggled, pressing his hand over his mouth to try to hide it.  He nodded firmly.  “Yes.”

“And I’m yours now.”  Shiro said softly, rolling onto his side and gently caressing the side of Keith’s face.  Keith leaned into it, eyes softening as he stared up into Shiro’s.  “Your hair’s starting to get long.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  I need to get it cut...”

“Hmm...  I like it like this.  More to run my hand through,” Shiro said, weaving his hands through Keith’s hair and bringing him in close.

They kissed softly for awhile, gentle and warm, just feeling each other until Shiro made a small noise in the back of his throat.  He blinked himself out of his daze.  “Your test.”

“That can wait,” Keith said softly, lifting his hand to catch Shiro’s jaw before he squirmed away.  “I’ll study tonight.  Lay with me for awhile.”

Shiro rose one amused eyebrow before giving in, snuggling into Keith’s side.  “I’m in trouble if you get anything less than perfect.”

“I’ll just have to do well then.”

“I have no doubt you will.”

Keith chuckled deep in his chest.  He pressed a kiss beneath Shiro’s jaw, but he couldn’t get into it.  He was still thinking.  “The things people were saying earlier...they were kind of bothering me.  I don’t want people to turn on you too.”

“Let them.  You’re worth it.  You take it for me.”

“There’s a _difference_.  People love you by default.”

“They’ll come around when they see how amazing you are.  And if they don’t, that has to do with themselves being so wrapped up in their own problems.  And that’s something to pity.”

“Yeah,” Keith closed his eyes, leaning into Shiro’s warmth, nestling into his shoulder.  He felt warm and safe and loved.  

He fell asleep in no time, comforted by Shiro’s words and belief.  He was so strong so Keith felt strong too.

 

He was awoken by the soft sound of a door sliding open.  It took him a moment to remember where he was, but as he opened his eyes and saw Shiro slowly coming awake beside him, he let himself relax.

“Oh, uh...sorry...  Guess I should’ve knocked.”

It was Matt, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.  “I could go.  I just had a quick question for Shiro.”

“Mm, no,” Keith mumbled, shoving himself up groggily.  “I should get back.  What time is it?”

“Your test,” Shiro whined beside him, slapping a hand to his face.

“It’s past dinner.  I didn’t see you guys there...  I’d bet you could still sneak into the kitchen though.”

“ _Dinner_ ,” Shiro despaired.  “Keith, I’m sorry.  I convinced you to come here and then I kept you.”

“I don’t mind,” Keith said softly, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go.  He brushed the hair out of his eyes.  “I’d rather be here anyway, but I really should go if you expect perfect scores from me.  Don’t want to let you down.”

Shiro laughed, his eyes still glazed over with sleepiness.  “Good luck.  If you need any help, message me.”

“Yeah, I see how effective your study sessions are,” Keith pressed a laugh down.

Shiro groaned and tossed himself back onto his bed.  

“I’m just kidding.  See you guys later,” he said, leaning over the couch and grabbing his bag.  

“Bye, Keith,” Shiro said, his voice going soft in the way it only ever did just for him.  “Call me if you get a chance,” he said right as his watch chimed loudly, the sound of a notification.

“That was fast,” Matt laughed the same second that his watch rang.

“Oh,” he murmured.  “A message...?”

Shiro looked down at his watch and stared.  He stared for a long moment.  His body went still.  He just stopped.  And then his eyes slowly dimmed.  He didn’t look up.

Matt blinked down at the message, eyes scanning the words over and then scanning again, surprise lighting his face up.  “Hey!  Shiro!”  His head snapped up to Shiro, bright-eyed for a moment.  But when Shiro looked up, he blinked, something passing between them.  Then, Matt said, softly, “oh...”

They both turned to him slowly.

Keith froze up.  

He knew before they said.  Shiro’s eyes went from Matt’s in a silent plea for help, over to Keith’s, hurt already there.

Keith pressed his lips together tightly and nodded.  Okay.  He had gone over what he’d say a thousand times already.  He could do this.  He could get through it.  But his voice sounded weird to his own ears.  “...Kerberos, huh?  Congratulations, you two.  I knew you’d get it.”

He was met with silence, cold and crushing, clutching onto his boots and trying to drag him through the floor.  They stared at him like he was an injured animal about to run.  It made him feel like one.

He cleared his throat.  Checked his expression.  Tried to keep it smooth and even.  He recited his lines a few more times in his head before he said them.  “Really, I’m happy for you two.  You’re the best of this place and you’ve both worked so hard.  You guys deserve this honor.”

Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but Keith thought he already knew what it was.  There was hesitance on his lips and a deep aching on his brow.  

Keith cut him off quickly, shifting his bag again.  “I’ve got to study for my test so that...so maybe one day I can follow after you too.  A group mission,” he laughed lightly.  It was forced and awkward.  He took a step back.

“Congratulations,” he whispered, and then turned, hurrying out of there.

He just tried to focus on breathing.

It would be one thing if they were only leaving for a year.  If everything went perfectly and Shiro would just _come back_ like he promised he would.

But Keith had already seen the future and he didn’t know what to do with it.

What if they _were_ just dreams?  What if the world was as simple as everyone believed it to be?  No magic bleeding into reality, no exceptions, just pure, hard fact.  

Keith saw things in his sleep.  And the things you saw in sleep were called dreams.  Others would just leave it at that.  But he was an instinctual creature, and he felt a screaming in his chest that told him that _no_ , this _wasn’t_ the same.  And he struggled with that.  

 _I want you to stay_ .  Keith thought of what he could say but that was all that came to mind and it _wasn’t enough._  It was selfish and wasn’t based on any supportive facts.  It was just a guess, a wild stab in the dark.  He felt like a monster trying to plant and grow a seed of fear in Shiro’s heart to cripple him.  To keep him from following his dreams.

But on the other hand, if Shiro left and all that he felt to be real turned out to be true...  What then?  An _I told you so_ would not bring Shiro back to him or save Matt and his father.

Shiro, bright, beautiful, innocent Shiro who’s greatest crime was just trying to help those who needed help, tied to a table, tortured, arm taken from him in a bloody agonizing mess.

No.  No, Keith couldn’t let that happen.

He didn’t know what to do.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t think.  What could he possibly say that wouldn’t sound crazy?  Matt already didn’t believe him, just pitied him.  With Shiro there was no room for failure.

There was a knock on his door, but he ignored it.  He didn’t have the energy to do anything besides just lay there.  It was always for Lance anyway.

But today, Lance looked back and said, “hey, man.”

Keith ignored him.

“ _Hey_.  Shiro’s here.”

Dammit.  He let out a soft breath as he dragged himself up on his bed.  Keith turned his eyes to the door.

“Can I come in?”  Shiro asked softly, staying where he was in the hallway.  It was dark in their room and bright in the hallway, lighting him up.  He’d leave if Keith asked him to.  It was written all over his posture.  Hesitance.  Apologetic stare like he was hurting just as much as Keith was.

Keith rubbed at his right arm subconsciously.  “I might say something stupid,” he warned lowly.

Shiro let out a small laugh that was small and sad.  “Consider me forewarned.”  He came in watching Keith carefully.  When Keith didn’t protest further, he took a careful seat on the edge of the bed.  

Lance remained at the door, biting his lip, before holding his hands up and leaving.  “I’m going to Hunk’s.  Bye.”  The door closed behind him.

“That was nice of him,” Shiro muttered as the silence in the room became theirs.

“Shiro,”  Keith said and then hesitated.  He blew out a long breath, running both hands through his hair.  “I’m not sure I’m ready for this conversation.  I don’t want to say something that will hurt you.”

“I think...it’s time to have it.”

Keith let out a shuddering breath.

“It’ll just be a year,” Shiro said softly.  “I know it’s horrible timing and I feel awful, but if you can wait for me...”

“No, of course.  Of course I’ll wait.  It’s not that.”

Keith swallowed hard.  It didn’t do any good to wait.  Now.  The time was now.  He dreaded it.  Wanted to avoid it forever and maybe it’d just never come...

It scared him.  It frightened him so badly.  

“What is it?”  Shiro asked, voice small.

Keith just wished he knew how to say it.  He looked at his hands, trembling in front of him.  “It’s about the dreams again.”

“Did you have another?”  Shiro prompted gently.

“Not last night, but it’s been changing, getting more insistent.  It’s like I can feel them during the day too, following me wherever I go.  A constant nagging reminder in the back of my mind.  It’s been nice being with you; you’re a good distraction.  I don’t have to think about it.  I can just pretend it’s not there.  But it is.  It’s always there.

“The pain in my arm is bad, but this _feeling_ is worse.  Like dread.  Like I know what’s going to happen.  I wish I could explain to you how they _feel_ .  It’s not just a dream.  It’s _different._ Gah!  I’m so bad with words.  I’ve been meaning to tell you for quite some time, but I just don’t know how to say it.”  He shifted, framing himself in front of Shiro.  Shiro’s returning gaze was serious, not discounting Keith, just listening.  

Keith swallowed hard.  “I don’t want to rob you of your future, of all you’ve worked so hard to get.  I know how much it means to you, how much it means to me for you to be recognized like this.  And I know we’re not anywhere close to the point where I have any right to speak about this with you.  But they’re _real_ , Shiro.  I know it.  I _feel_ it.  It all happened that night I went onto the rooftop and the stars _showed me_.”

“Keith...”

“I know it sounds crazy!  I know.”  He slipped off his bed and pushed his way to the window, jerking the curtains to the side to look up into the sky.  The stars hung there, somber reminders.  He shook his head at them, clenching his eyes shut.  “I wouldn’t have believed it either.  ...I just _know_ that what I see is going to happen to you.  I’ve _felt it_ .  If you go to Kerberos, you’ll get captured.  They’ll throw you in a cell and starve you and torture you.  They cut off your arm!   _Shiro_ !  Shiro, you can’t go.   _Please_.”

“Keith, Keith, look at me.”  Shiro stood, arms gently reaching for him from behind.  He held Keith, leaning his face down on his shoulder, keeping him secure in his embrace.  “Calm down.  Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“It will!   _I’ve seen it_!”

“No.  No, Keith, maybe it’s just because you care so much, but they’re just nightmares.  They’re horrible and I’m so sorry.  This mission will be safe.  I’ve gone over the details a hundred times, we all have. And I'm going to go over them a hundred times more before we leave. Nothing will go wrong.  I’ll be with Matt and his father.  We have the Garrison at our backs.  They wouldn’t send us if they thought there was the possibility of something bad happening.  Dr. Holt is famous around the world.  He’s too valuable to lose.”

“How do they know what you’ll find when the very mission is in the name of _discovering what’s out there_ ?!  Shiro.  You find them!  You find aliens there!  But not before they _find you first_.”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered softly.  He braced his hands against Keith’s shoulders and held him there firmly.  “Look at me.  Look at my face.  I promise you, everything will be okay.  I’ll only be gone for a year.  One single year; you’ll hardly know I’m gone and then I’ll be back and I promise you I won’t apply to any other mission without your approval first.  We’ll talk through every detail before I make any major decisions, okay?  I know how much these decisions affect you now.”

“God,” Keith moaned, shoving his face into his hands.  “I don’t -  I just...  I wish you could see...  I wish you could see...  I wish none of this was happening.”

“ _Nothing_ _is_ happening.  You know, it’s funny, people are always so quick to say that aliens are evil, but what if they’re not?  What if they’re as curious about us as we are them?”

“Imagine, Shiro,” Keith grunted wearily from around his hand.  “What we’d do to aliens if one just _happened to_ _land_ outside in the desert.  We wouldn’t go up to it and offer it a meal and safe quarters.  What do you think we’d do?”

Shiro kept his face calm and cool.  “...I’m not the one who would make such decisions.”

“What would _the Garrison_ do, Shiro?”

Shiro pressed his lips togetherly tightly, keeping the answer to himself.

“They’d experiment and play with it until there’s nothing left - just bloodied pulp in a container - and you know it.  Humans and their ‘inherent goodness’.”

“Keith,” Shiro said lowly, almost a scold as he sighed and turned to look out at the stars.  They were still that night, quiet.  He murmured softly, brushing Keith’s hair from his face tenderly, “You and I didn’t come here because we thought there was evil up in the stars.  I know you didn’t.  We came here because we loved what we saw in the sky and had to know more about it.  Good or bad, evil or benevolent, I want to explore.  I want to see what’s out there.”

“And if I’ve already seen what’s out there?  If these dreams are truly premonitions?”

“Magic doesn’t exist.”

“It’s _not magic_ .   _Shiro_.”

Shiro took another deep breath, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands. “Keith.  ...If your dreams are real and Matt, Dr. Holt, and I are captured on Kerberos, then I will do _everything_ in my power to come back here to you.  I promise you.”

“You are _tortured_ .  Beaten and bloodied.  They take away everything from you.  They tear off your arm with a _saw_ .  I saw it.  I felt it.  Shiro, you’re alone.  I don’t want that to happen to you...  I can’t stand the thought.  It’s driving me _insane_.”

Shiro just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring hard into the floor, looking tired and weary, as if he was an old man and they’d been arguing this point for the past fifty years.  Reluctantly, he said, “The medic probably has something to calm your nerves...”

“ _No_ ,” Keith grit out in frustration, climbing closer so that he was sitting on Shiro’s lap.  He got right in Shiro’s face, angry tears splashing down his face.  “ _Look at me_.  What am I supposed to do?  What would you do if you were me?  Watching you run to your death like this!  What am I supposed to do...?  Let you go and die?”

“Keith, I don’t know!  I don’t know what to think.  I know you’re scared; I’m _so sorry_ .  I wish I could take it all away.  I wish we weren’t going to Kerberos since it hurts you like this, but _I am_ going, Keith.  I can’t just back out now.  I’m tied into this now.”

“You asked me, before, at the cafe, if you should go...”

“Well, you should have said something _then_ ,” Shiro bit out.  

The tension spiked, pouring over them like a balloon popped too soon.  It had risen in his voice, sharp and strangled by his constraints that had broken away.  But it fell from his face right away.  He shook his head, closing his eyes.  When he whispered, each word tore through his throat painfully.  “I’m sorry, Keith.  I’m sorry.  About all of this.  I shouldn’t have yelled.  I want to make this easier for you and I don’t know how.  It hurts me to see you like this.”

“I just want you to be safe,” Keith whispered.  

Shiro shifted, turning so that his face was inches from Keith’s.  “I know.  I know that what you see is painful and vivid and real and it’s affecting you.  I know you’re scared and I am too.  I don’t want to be apart from you, especially when we’re so newly into this relationship and I know that it’ll mean leaving you alone.  But listen, Keith.  I can’t just quit halfway.  I’ve already signed all the documents binding me to this mission.  If I back out now, at best, my name will be crossed from the Garrison and everything I’ve worked for will turn to ashes in my hands.  They won’t let me pilot again.  I’ll be giving up everything: the work from my past, the plans for my future.  A year from now, you and I won’t be able to work together.  We will never pilot together.  My place will be here, stuck in the dirt, forced to live my life with these mundane jobs I’ve never wanted, never getting my chance to go into that sky we’ve been dreaming about.  And right now, it’s in my hands...  This is it.  I’m going to Kerberos, Keith, but it _will be safe_ and I’ll come back in a year and we’ll be together.”

He knew it would end like this.  That he’d spill his heart out to Shiro and beg and cry and nothing would come of it.  He’d only feel a fool.

Together.  Shiro promised they’d be together.  Keith had heard a lot of promises in his life.

“You don’t know that,” Keith whispered, tears slowly tracking down his face and onto Shiro’s shirt.

“I do.  I feel it in my heart.  I’ll come back to you.  How could I not?  It feels like I’ve always known you and always will.  It’s like I’ve been waiting for you and now that you’re here with me, I’m not going to just give you up.  Does that make sense?”

Keith nodded slowly, pressing his palms to Shiro’s chest and running them over his shoulders, lacing them around his neck.  “I feel it too.  Like we’re invincible together.  Since the first time I saw you, I thought you were an angel.  It surprised me.  You’re so beautiful...  I’ve never thought that about anyone before.”

A small smile bloomed on Shiro’s mouth.  “I thought the same thing about you.  You were so quiet and angry.  I thought you might kill me several times.”

Keith let himself loosen into Shiro’s hold, resting his weary head on Shiro’s shoulder.  “I was so afraid.  ...After my father left, it seemed foolish to let anyone in.  And suddenly, you were there, asking me to trust you.  I told myself right then and there I never would.  I tried to convince myself that you were just there to hurt, but you proved me wrong every time.  And here we are.”

“Here we are,” Shiro said.  “I don’t want to betray your trust, Keith...”  

He rubbed soft circles on Keith’s back, up his spine, around the base of his neck, over the muscles that were tense and hard in his shoulders.  It was comforting, lulling Keith into someplace warm.  Someplace where Kerberos wasn’t a thing, where his dreams never happened.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Shiro whispered.  “Our last few weeks together, I want us to be okay.”

Keith nodded his face into Shiro’s shoulder.  “I trust you,” Keith said softly.  He felt his chest rise with emotion as he trembled.  Tears began to leak from his eyes.  “I’m so scared.  I trust you.  I’m sorry.”

“Everything will be alright,” Shiro murmured, rocking them gently back and forth.  “Shh, shh.  I promise you.  Everything will be okay.”

Whatever Shiro would promise, Keith would believe.  Keith put his trust in him, after all.

 

The next day was hard.  

Shiro was there, of course he was there, but so was the news, hanging in the air clouded with excitement.  The previous day’s scandal about Shiro was somehow long forgotten.  People were hooting and hollering, clapping loudly and offering their praise and heartfelt congratulations like they had all been best friends since birth.

Fake.  It was so fake and sickening.

Shiro smiled through it all, thanking everyone and laughing, enjoying the excitement with them.  He was showered in confetti and party streamers during lunch.

Keith couldn’t take it.  Watching them all, celebrating this when Keith had just dreamt last night of Shiro losing his arm again.  Of Shiro, having some alien weaponry replacing what was his, flesh and bone.  

His Shiro, taken apart, screaming.  His Shiro, put together with different pieces.

He waited for awhile in the cafeteria.  He could see as Shiro tried to disengage many times to make his way to Keith, but even the teachers were surrounding him.  Matt too was caught up in that crowd.  

Keith was alone, like he would be for an entire year.  It sounded like so long.  This was one day of torture.  Multiplied by three hundred and sixty five was a nightmare.  And that was only if things went well, like Keith knew they wouldn’t.

Keith, alone again.

He slipped away from the crowd and into the bathroom, shutting himself in a stall and kicking the lid down.  He sat there.

It was different now.  

It had just been a few months before that he’d done this, hidden away and shoving his face into his hands trying to force himself through the day.  

Why had he fought so hard back then, he wondered.  What had been his point?  What had given him his drive if there was no one to share it with?  

All of his joy that he felt now was rooted in his and Shiro’s relationship, his and Matt’s friendship.  He trusted them, he cared for them. He was so scared for them.

Keith, alone.

It was different now, being alone after having been shown what it was like not to be.  He didn’t have the energy to panic or wheeze.  He just sat there and stared at the back of the stall door.  It was wide and green.  There was a dent in it and a smear of something suspicious.  It didn’t really register.  He was just there.  Just there.

There was a knock on the stall door.  “...Keith?  Is that you?”

He closed his eyes and had half a mind to just say nothing.  But he knew Shiro and he didn’t want him to climb the stall to peek over the top.

“Keith?”  he asked again.

“I’m fine, Shiro,” he said wearily.

The main bathroom door opened and someone exclaimed excitedly.  “Oh!  Shiro!  Congratulations, man!  How excited are -”

“- Ah, thanks, I’m sorry, I need to...”  He trailed off, voice going soft again as he turned and spoke through the stall.  “Let me in?”

“There’s no room,” Keith grudged.  

“I’ll squeeze in the corner.”

“ _I_ barely fit in here.”

“Keith...”  

His voice sounded so dismal and grey.  This was a day for _celebrating_.

Keith said, “People want to share your success out there with you; you should go with them.”

“...Keith...”

He wasn’t going to win.  With a sigh, he leaned forward to grab the latch and unlock the stall door.  Shiro opened it and slipped in, locking it behind him.

It was...close.  Keith shied away, looking at the gross tile floor.  Shiro’s torso was basically inches from his face.  

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith tried to say as convincingly as he could.  He even mustered up a smile.

“No, you’re not.  You’re hiding in this disgusting bathroom.  I always wondered where you disappeared to.”

“Yeah, well...  It’s easy to think here.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

“It’s not really the best idea honestly.  But I wasn’t having fun out there either.”  He cringed, catching himself revealing too much.  “People are just excited.  I get it.  It was just a little overwhelming for me.  I just need a little time in here.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Shiro said, leaning back into the corner and tilting his head toward the ceiling, inspecting it.  He looked comfortable and settled, like he could stay there all day and be content.

“...You don’t have to stay here, Shiro.”

“I know,” he laughed, grinning like this was a great adventure.  “But I want to be with you, not them.  Is that alright?  Or is it kind of uncomfortable?  It’s tight in here, I get that.”

A small laugh bubbled out of Keith before he could stop it.  “...You’re good.”  He stared up at Shiro, so fond.  The uneasiness still sat in Keith’s heart, but another, stronger voice was admiring Shiro and the fact that he was still there, beside Keith in a dirty disgusting toilet stall, despite all the goodness that waited for him outside the doors.

Keith patted his lap.  “Sit with me.”

Shiro stared.  “Uh.  On you?”

“Sure.  I can take it.”

“I weigh almost two hundred pounds.”

“Test me.”

Shiro pursed his lips, eyes scanning over Keith sceptically.  “You’re so small.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” Keith huffed.  “I can take you.  Just sit.  If you kill me, you kill me.”

“That is _so_ not comforting,” Shiro chuckled lightly, stepping over Keith and lowering himself slowly.  He kept his hands on either wall of the stall, watching Keith’s face for any sign of discomfort.  Keith’s smile only grew.

“You’re light as a feather.”

“I somehow doubt that very much.  But you’re seriously not hurting?”

“Nope.”  Keith weaved his arms around Shiro’s back and pulled him in closer.  “A romantic spot.”

“Our first official date.  I should’ve brought a picnic.  A little bit of cheese and crackers.  Some grapes and wine.”

Keith laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls.

Someone came into the bathroom and the ridiculousness of it - of Shiro and Keith crammed into one small stall just to hide from the world, made Keith laugh even harder.  He stuffed it up, shoving his face into Shiro’s clavicle to muffle it.

He could feel Shiro’s chest heaving with silent laughter as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders, resting his hand at the base of his neck.

The person stopped halfway into their journey toward a stall and then turned the other way.

“Oh, no,” Keith laughed, as he heard the door swing shut.  “We scared someone off.”

“Now people will think this bathroom is haunted.”

“Or that there are two creeps having a picnic in a stall.”

“Or we’re making out.”

Keith blinked, going red.

Shiro seemed to realize what he had just said and rubbed at his cheek.  “I mean.  Uh.  Not that I was thinking about making out or anything.  I just...”

Keith choked back a laugh, masking it as a cough into his fist.  “Yeah.”

“...Yeah.”

Keith smiled around his hand as he thought about it.  “I don’t know why we’re getting so embarrassed.  It’s not like we’ve never done that or anything.”

“No.  ...I know.  It’s weird.  It’s the lighting or something.  ...I didn’t come in here to make out.  I’m sorry.  I just wanted to be with you.”

“Hmm...”  Keith wrapped his arms back around Shiro and let his face fall into his chest.

“Anyway... how’d the test go?”

Keith talked into Shiro’s shirt.  “It went well.  I’ve got another tomorrow.  I really need to study this time though.”

Shiro groaned.  “...I can help,” he said, but it sounded more like a question.

Keith laughed, shaking his head.  “I won’t fall for the same thing twice.  I need to go to the library after last period anyway.”

“I have to sign some more confidential documents too.”

“What kind?”

“The confidential kind,” Shiro’s smile turned devilish.

“ _Oh_ ,” Keith mocked, still smiling.  He turned his sharp glance onto Shiro’s face.  “Alright.  Well, Mr. Important should probably get a move on then.  The bathroom is no place for you.”

Shiro laughed, “Not so.  I kind of like it in here with you.  Our secret club.”

“Next meeting maybe you can sit on the toilet seat and I’ll sit on you because my legs are totally asleep right now.”

“I knew you were lying about it being fine,” Shiro snorted, getting to his feet and, with one last private warm smile at Keith, he opened the stall.

Someone was outside; they turned when they saw Shiro in the mirror, face bright with enthusiasm, no doubt going to congratulate Shiro, when their eyes fell on Keith as he exited.  Their face went blank as they stared.  

Shiro ignored them, turning to look back at Keith.  “So...meet me at my room later?”  Shiro said, fingers clinging to Keith’s.  He rubbed his finger gently over the knuckles, taking extra care with Keith’s injured hand.

Keith’s eyes flickered to the guy’s.  Maybe in another universe it would’ve bothered him, but it was different with Shiro at his side.  He didn’t even absorb the tension from that look, just focused on Shiro.  “Yeah.  I’ll be quick.”

“I’ll get dinner.  What do you want?”

“Anything’s good,” Keith shrugged.  “I’ll leave it up to you.”

“Bathroom picnic?”

“Your bathroom’s pretty nice,” Keith grinned.

Shiro laughed, head tilting and eyes glimmering, completely charmed.  “Alright.  Meet you there.”

“Looking forward to it.”

It was funny.  The beginning of Keith’s detention days, all he did was dread going to clean, and that really shortened his class periods.  But now that he was eager to go out and find Shiro, all he could do was watch how _slow_ the clock was moving.  And he still had to study after this too.  He knew he was being dramatic, but he felt like he was in agony.  The grudging impatient kind.  He zipped through his classwork and rose from his seat.  He went to the front of the class to turn it in and then turned, ready to pack up his things to leave - _finally_.

Two steps in, he stopped.

Something wasn’t right.  He could feel it tugging in his gut.  

The silence of students working morphed and changed.  There was a dull chanting.  Softly, at first, as if another classroom down the hallway was celebrating something, but, when he turned to listen, the sound didn’t change.  And then louder...and louder.  It was obtrusive and pounding, but no one else was reacting to it.  

Several people were noticing Keith standing there; they watched him nervously.

“Champion...” he heard.  “Champion...   _Champion_.  Champion!”

There was screaming and clapping all around him, the energy of a stadium in wait.

Dirt on the floor.  A ring.  He was in a ring.  There was a creature cowering away from him on the far end.  A weapon in his own hand.  

“I can’t,” Keith could hear Shiro’s voice ringing in his ears, Keith’s mouth moving around the words as if they were his own.  It was Shiro, it was definitely Shiro.  Stubborn and firm, ragged, rougher than Keith was used to, but there was no question anymore.  “I won’t.”

“You know the game.  Then we’ll kill your friends.  One...by...one.  Slowly.  So it hurts.  Which one should we go for first?  The mouse-y human?”

His hand gripped tighter on the weapon.  He stared at the one cowering before him.  

And fell...no, wait, it was Keith who had fallen.  He was in the classroom again, everything hushed.  He was on his hands and knees, blinking away the vision.

“Cadet?”  The teacher was muttering, already standing over him, hand on his shoulder.  “Can you hear me?”

“I’m...”  He closed his eyes tightly, thoughts of Shiro in that ring claiming his attention.  “I can hear you.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured.  When he tried to stand, he swooned, only barely managing to catch himself on the nearest desk.  He sagged, nearly sinking onto someone whose face he couldn’t register.

“You need to go to the medical bay,” the teacher sighed.  “...Here.  I’ll take you.”

“I’ll take him,” someone said, standing.

Keith looked up through the dizziness.  It was Anthony.  

“Oh,” the teacher said in pleased surprise.  “Sure.  Make sure he makes it, will you?”

“I will,” Anthony said, walking down the aisle, face carefully neutral as he approached Keith, arms held out wide.  He looked friendly.  

Keith shied away.  “No, I can make it myself.”

“Nonsense, cadet,” the teacher said.  “You can barely keep yourself held up by a desk.  Take the help.  There’s no shame in that.”

Anthony heaved Keith up over his shoulders.  “Ugh, actually he’s a little heavier than he looks.  Maybe if there’s two of us...”  He nodded a friend over.

Keith watched in muted misery.  

“You alright?”  He asked Keith as they both took an arm of his and lifted.  His tone sounded caring and good.

“...Fine,” Keith forced himself to say, biting down on his lip until he tasted blood.

He was leaning on Anthony without much choice.

He was drained.  So unbelievably exhausted it was taking every shard of energy to not pass out right there.  His whole body was fighting to sleep, to retreat to those dreams.  

 _Champion_ , he could hear still, whispering in his ear, crawling over his skin, sinking into his bones.

They walked in silence down the hallway.  Keith was gritting his teeth, waiting for the moment that Anthony and his minion dropped him or tried to toss him into a locker.  But they just kept dragging Keith, facing straight ahead.

 _I believe people are inherently good_ , Shiro had told Keith.   _Even Anthony_.

But Keith knew people.  Maybe somewhere, deep deep deep down inside of Anthony, his heart was good.  Very far down.  

But when Anthony took a wrong turn, opened the storage closet, and shoved Keith inside, Keith wasn't surprised. He hadn't expected anything more.

Inherently good.

Shiro was a dreamer and Keith loved that about him, but sometimes he wished the world was as ideal as Shiro saw it.

Keith fell to the ground with a loud clatter, landing hard in buckets filled thickly with the scent of chemicals and dirtied water.  A mop fell and hit him over the head.  Bottles and cans of god knows what poured over him from the shelves.  

He glared up at Anthony.

 _Champion_ , he could hear ringing in his ears.  He could feel the strong sturdy comfort of a blade in his hand, only it wasn’t his, it was Shiro’s, and though he couldn’t see it, he could feel it as it made contact.  As Shiro killed.

“You sure are lucky,” Anthony said, looking down at him, arms crossed.  “I’ve been trying to get a moment with you for a long while now.”

“Ah,” Keith grunted, trying to pull his thoughts to the present.  

“...But looks like luck is on _my side today_.  You can hardly stand, can you?  Looks like you really are sick.  Watch the door, he can’t fight,” he told his friend, who gave Keith one last appraising look before he slipped out quietly and disappeared.  

“When I was three, my father bought me my very first simulator.  And he told me, from that age, what I will do when I get to the Garrison.  I’ve worked to get here, harder than you could ever know.  I _fought_ everyday on that simulator, I worked _hours_ with my teachers.”  

He pulled his jacket from his arms and carefully folded it, taking his time.  His face was calm as he set it aside in one of the shelves and then began to pull his gloves off, finger by finger.  

“I’m not mad about you beating everyone’s scores anymore.  I’m not even mad that you have Shiro and Iverson wrapped around your little finger.  I’m trying to be a better person, see?  I’m not angry.  Sometimes, things like that just happen.  Someone just turns up who’s _better_ at something.  And I can admit that.  You’re better.  You’re better than even Shiro, something even my father said could never happen.

“But it doesn’t mean I have to forfeit to it.”

Anthony grabbed a metal pole from the corner and advanced on Keith.

Keith could still feel Shiro in his veins, the desperation running through him, the horror, as he beat down one he had no fued with.  

“Please,” Keith pushed out, shaking his head roughly in a sad attempt to clear it.  What would Shiro say?  What would Shiro do?  “We don’t have to be enemies.  We all want the same thing, we all have the same interests, we could be _friends_.”

Anthony let out a small laugh, looking up to the sky with a small smile on his lips.  “It must be easy for you to think that, standing at the top of the class.  But, after you, Shiro’s the next best pilot, and he’s leaving.  So who do you think that leaves after that?”

Keith shook his head tiredly.  “It doesn’t have to be a competition.  Why can’t we just help each other?”

“It’s me.   _I’m_ the third best pilot of this whole place.  And with you out of the way, people are going to start finally seeing that.”

Jealousy.  This whole stupid thing.  

 _Don’t fight_ , Shiro had made him promise.  Shiro still had that scar on his hand.  Keith could feel his own twinging beneath his glove.  

 _Don’t fight_.

_Champion!_

Anthony raised his weapon and drove it down.

 _Don’t fight_.

Keith rolled to the side, sending Anthony off balance.

Anthony stumbled, tripping forward, falling beside Keith.  He clawed his way out of a bucket and threw his fist into Keith’s face.

“Stop this!”  Keith cried, ducking out of the way.  He thought of Shiro, his belief in the goodness of others.  Shiro, forced to fight in a world where he didn’t want to hurt anyone.  Shiro, having to kill so the ones he loved wouldn’t be killed instead.  

“Stop!”  Keith begged, choking on the vision.

Shiro was standing over the body of another, hands shaking, eyes on the crowd as they cheered.  There was blood everywhere.  He had done that.

 _Champion, Champion_.

Shiro bit back a sob.  He was too tired to tremble.

“What the hell is happening in here?”  Anthony’s friend burst in, shutting the door behind him quickly.  

“Hold him down!”  Anthony roared.  Keith had him pinned, holding him to the floor, pleading with him.

Shiro dropped the weapon.  He was guided back through the long dark halls, red staining his nails and fingertips, emptiness in his heart.  Everything he had wanted was smeared through the stars, ruined.  

Keith was right there with him, dying to reach out to him, to grab his hand, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

Inherently good...  Shiro had truly believed that.  About Anthony.  About Keith. About himself.  But how could a killer be anything but bad...?  The light in Shiro’s eyes flickered...and died.

Keith was pulled back, pinned to a wall.  Anthony reached forward and tugged something from Keith’s belt.

“A knife!”  Anthony laughed, winded.  “Thanks for this.”

“...Anthony,” his friend muttered lowly.  

“Just hold him.”

“Stop,” Keith grunted as he was tossed like a rag doll, arms pulled back as he was held out for Anthony, defenseless.

He could probably get out of it.  They were amateurs, the first fight had shown that, and the second.  He could push this idiot back into the wall hard enough to make him pass out.  He could grab the knife from Anthony’s unseasoned hands and turn it back on him.  Maybe he could run before all that, but his legs were already shaking in his state and Anthony's friend was between him and the door.

Shiro had made him promise.  He didn’t want to fight.  Keith wanted to prove to Shiro that some people, no matter how damaged, could be good.  They could.  They didn't have to hurt, even if they had the power to.  Keith could change.  Maybe he could be somewhere close to how good Shiro was too.

Anthony kicked him hard in the gut.  “You’ve caused me so much shit.  If only you hadn’t come here then things would’ve been fine.  My father would be _proud of me_ , not cursing my name!”

“And this is how you’ll gain his favor?”  Keith coughed, biting back a grimace from the pain.  “You can stop this.”

Keith didn’t fight back.

Anthony punched Keith hard in the face, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at the damage he did.  There was surprise in Anthony’s eyes.  He inspected his hand, where blood had appeared.

All he could think of was Shiro’s face when he saw the state Keith was in.  The pain in his eyes.  The trembling of his hands.  

Anthony punched him again.  And when he had done that, the blood lust in his eyes multiplied.  He had the power in the palm of his hand now, and he wasn’t going to relinquish it.  Not to Keith.

So he punched again...and again, until Keith’s brain rattled and his jaw felt unhinged.  He was sagging in this guy’s grip, spent.  Even if he chose to fight now, Keith thought, at some point, he really might not be able to get out of it.

“I can help you,” Keith was saying from a long distant tunnel, rambling, words tumbling from his mouth, desperately fishing for the right thing to say.  “If you want to pilot better, then Shiro and I will do all we have in our power to show you how.  All the work you’ve done will pay off, I promise.  I don’t want to fight.  Stop this.  Stop this...”

“There won’t be anymore fighting,” Anthony promised, carefully securing his hand around the knife Keith had snuck from the kitchen.  “The only way my work will pay off is with you out of the way.”

“You don’t think you’ll get in trouble for this?”

Anthony widened his eyes in mock surprise.  “Well, _you_ didn’t.  I didn’t _last time_ .  And besides, _I’m_ not the one who did this.  It was Shiro.  Who else would be able to get a knife, after all.”

Keith coughed out a laugh.  “No one will even believe you,” at least there was that, Keith knew.

“But would it sully his name?  The son of the biggest name on the board against some gay pilot who had a squabble with his too-needy boyfriend.  Everyone knows you have viciousness in you.  Everyone knows he’s your only ally in this whole place and that he’s _leaving you_ ; you stormed away during lunch only yesterday.  Everyone’s heard that someone tried to sabotage his application process, and everyone thinks it’s _you_ .  I bet you thought it wouldn’t matter who thought what as long as Shiro believed in your innocence.  Well, it _does_ .  When Shiro found out that you were the one who tried to sabotage his trip, something in him just _snapped._ ”

“No one will ever believe you.”

“Belief?  No, maybe not. But doubt is enough. The Garrison has a name to uphold after all and your dead body doesn't factor in. And with you dead, Shiro will be so heartbroken he probably won't even fight back. You see?  I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.  Who do you think started all these rumors about you?  People are _so_ easy to manipulate.  Say one thing and it spreads around the school like wildfire.

“ _I want to be the best_ , not you, not anyone else.  You and Shiro, a disastrous relationship waiting to happen.  See?  This is why two guys shouldn’t be allowed together.  They kill each other,” he laughed, holding the knife up so that the small closet light caught it, glinting.  “I hope you had fun while you lasted.  I’m about to be the best.”  He smiled brightly.

Keith tried to shake his head, but his muscles were rearranged, swollen, broken, not working.  His body felt detached from his control and there was just pain and there was just Shiro in his mind, whispering, pleading something Keith couldn’t make sense of.  Crying.  His Shiro, sobbing, wrecked.

“Shiro,” he whispered, heartbroken, as pain radiated through his body, exploding through his core, too much to pinpoint.  His words shifted into darkness.  He could feel his consciousness finally letting go.

But he couldn’t die.  He couldn’t.

If he died, who would stop Shiro from going to Kerberos?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ╭( ･ㅂ･)و Chat with me [on Twitter?](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	13. Chapter 13

 

It was cold where Keith was.  Cold and lonely.  He felt like he’d been there his entire life, just waiting.

He was sitting on his back atop the roof of the orphanage, looking out at the night sky, tracing his finger through the air over the stars that moved.  They formed a rainbow in the overwhelming darkness, cutting through hopelessness and despair, leaving a trail of light.

The colors weaved and converged, and though he’d never been nearer to a star than he was then, he felt like he knew them somehow, that they knew him.  They were calling to him.  It was beautiful.  The sight filled his chest with emotion and he longed to stretch his hand out only a little more, to reach them.  Call their name.  But he was down here, in the dirt, alone.  And so there, he waited.

A whisper of noise caught his attention from down below.  He pulled himself up, peeking over the edge of the roof to that long familiar stretch of road.  He used to watch it as a child; every day it’d remain empty.  Every day for almost twenty years.  But this time, he blinked.

A shadow stood there.

It was tall.  It was peaceful.  It was someone who, years before, Keith would’ve killed to see just _one more time_.

It was his father.  Dark hair, confident smile, small scar over his eyebrow.  He was staring up at the sky, eyes following the stars that were racing like rainbows, the red one pulling ahead.

“ _Dad_ ,” Keith whispered, hands clutching to the gutter tightly.

“Hey, Keith...” he said, smiling as if the past life hadn’t happened.  As if they saw each other every day and cared for each other, loved each other like a father and son might.

Keith stared blankly.  “Wh-what is this...?  Why are you here?”

His dad just smiled, head turning to follow the path of the red star, not moving from his spot.

“I...  How do I get down?  How can I get to you?”  Keith breathed, turning his head frantically this way and that for some sort of ladder or a window.  The one he used to climb from at the orphanage was gone, it was just more roofing.  The drop off the side was too high.

The sides of his father’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.  “Look at you,” he murmured.  “Look at how you’ve grown.”

“Is this a dream?”

“No.  But you’re not awake either.  I’d say...it’s something akin to your heart.”

“What?  I don’t - I just....”  Keith took a deep breath, letting his head hang and forehead press to the roof for a moment.  He had to breathe.  He had to focus.  He grasped for long deep breaths, filling his lungs slowly.

When his heart had returned to normal and his sharp breaths had lessened, he pulled himself back up and looked down at his father.  He didn’t know what to feel.  Part of him felt light and buzzing, but the other half was darkened with anger.  All of him was raw.

Keith said lowly, “So I can’t get to you...  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.  Why are you here?”

“Don’t you know?”

“...It was you, wasn’t it?”  Keith whispered, words catching.  “Giving me the dreams?”  

He didn’t want to admit it to himself.  Didn’t want to have to believe that his father had never fully left him, that his betrayal was anything softer than what it looked like on the outside.  His father had left him those many years ago.  And that was it.  That was the last trace of him Keith had seen.

But he’d felt him in his heart everywhere Keith went.  And it killed him.

“You wished upon the stars...”

“You have to know,” Keith laughed softly, bitterly.  “Every time I looked into the stars and asked them, it was always you I was pleading with...”

“And you thought you never found me there.”

“No,” Keith whispered.  “I never did.”

“Hm.  But look at the stars now...”  He took in a long satisfied breath as he gazed above.  “You’re going to do great things.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keith said, settling onto his elbows as he watched his father watch the skies.  “I just got beat to a pulp by some weakling.”

“I saw that.  I was curious about your decision to not fight.  You could’ve easily taken him.”

He thought of Shiro’s kind eyes, of the way he tenderly held Keith’s hands as he pulled his gloves over the wounds.  “I guess I just...  I want to live my life by saving people, not hurting them.”

“Noble.  But how will you save people if you’re dead?”

“Yeah.  That’s true...”  He sighed, downhearted.  “I feel like I can never do anything right.  Your dreams were all for nothing.  Shiro’s still going to Kerberos.  He’s going to die, isn’t he?  And I just let it happen.  The only person who has ever been there for me.”

His dad crossed his arms as he took a seat in the dirt slowly.  He sighed softly.  “Who says it’s over?  He’s still with you.  There’s still time.”

“He’s not listening.  He thinks I’m crazy.  Half the time _I_ think I’m crazy.  No one can predict the future.”

“Time isn’t linear, Keith.  If you think about the measurement of -”

“I _don’t want to hear this_.  I don’t need a lesson in astrophysics from you; I’m taking a class at school.  ...Not that you’d know...  Just...leave.  Just go.  You can’t help me.”

“...I’m trying to,” his father said quietly, looking up to Keith with wide apologetic eyes.  “But it’s difficult.  You’re not like them.  You’re different than the rest.”

“ _God_ .  This speech.  Don’t think reciting some lame monologue from some father-son movie you saw like twenty years ago is going to earn you any points with me.   _You left me.  You’re gone.  You missed everything in my life_ and let me fight through it alone, I’ve been _miserable_ and you _just left me_.  I was completely alone.  No one was here.  No one.”  He swallowed hard, rubbing at his face roughly.  “...I hate you,” he muttered quietly, but there was no feeling in it, no passion.

“I've always been with you...  Look at all the stars, Keith.”

“I’ve _been looking!_   I looked when you were with me and I looked when you weren’t and there's nothing in them besides cold bitter disappointment.  For all the stars in the sky, it's _empty.”_

“All those universes, all those places to see, they’re yours to pursue.”

“Shiro’s,” he corrected.  “ _Shiro’s_ to pursue.  He’ll go to Kerberos like he wants, and see things he never expected like he wants.  And then he will be killed.  I’m not going up there.  I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’s not go up there where the only person I love anymore is _torn apart_.”

“All those stars,” his father whispered.  “Both good and bad...and you’re the one who fell here.”

Keith rubbed his hands on his face, trying to battle away his rising anger with the patience he’d been learning from Shiro.  “I’m not a star. I'm a person. A stupid person who destroys everything he touches.  Who can’t save or help anyone...”

“No, you're not. You're not any of those things. Do you know where you got that nickname?  It was your mother who first called you that. The first day you were born, as she held you in her arms wrapped in your blanket.  You were so small....  Her little fallen star, she said.  You were sent from heaven, you came from the galaxy above, different from the others.  You're not like the people around you...you are bigger than this world, Keith, bigger than this universe.  You were born with the ability to change things in the way others cannot.  From bad to good.  Good to bad.  It’s up to you to choose.  You and only you.  So change things, Keith.  Your mom and I are so proud of you.  We know whatever you choose will be right.”

“Yeah, you guys _really_ believed in me.  So glad you’re bringing Mom into this too.  Little fallen star,” Keith spat lowly.  “The one _she left."_

“She didn’t want to leave.  There is nothing more important to us in the universe than you, Keith.  But some things even your mother couldn’t help.  You'll understand why one day.”

Keith felt no sympathy.  He kept his face cold and emotionless.

His father shifted, unhappy.  “I’m sorry.  I _have_ been watching you.  I know you love him.  I know you love Shiro,” his father said.  “And I know I’ve never given you anything in life like you deserved.  But I want to give you at least this one gift.”

“I don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about.”

“You can still save him.  I’ll help you.  So show him.  I’ve taken your happiness away, now I want to give it back...”

Keith ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  “ _Show him what_ ?  My love for him?  He _knows_ .  He thinks he’s still coming back.  He thinks Kerberos is _safe_ .  He thinks _people_ are _safe._ He’s so _naive_ and untouched by this world, he just...  He believes in all the good but doesn’t understand any of the bad.  He’s too good to.”  Tears rose up inside of him, burning at his eyes, and he wiped them angrily away.  “He doesn’t deserve any of this.  He’s the best person I know.”

“You still have time.”

Keith was shaking his head.  “Even if I manage to convince him, it’ll crush him.  Robbing him of the galaxy...?  That’s not love.  That’s not a gift.  That’s killing him myself.”

“Keith, you can feel it.  You’ve said it before, I’ve heard you.  You have all you need here to go _out there_.”  He gestured toward the stars.

“ _I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying_ .  You’re not helping.  All this cryptic bullshit is annoying as hell!  Go away.  I don’t want to see you again.  All you do is hurt me.  Go.   _Go_.”

“Show him, Keith,” his father whispered, leaning forward, hand clutching his chest.  “I’ll help you.  I’ve been helping you, can’t you see?  So show him.  He’ll listen.”

“I’ve told him everything!  He’s not listening!  You’re not listening!  No one ever listens!”

“ _I’m listening_ ,” his father desperately said from down below.  He cast his eyes about, looking for something, walking around the building for a way to get to Keith.

“I waited for you for so long and you _never came back_  I’ve always been so alone.”

“Let me help you, Keith,” his father begged.  “Just give me this one chance.  Please, Keith.  I love you.  You’re my son.  Just let me...”

             “Keith?”

“Just _go_ ,” Keith was groaning into his hands.

             “ _Keith_.”

He felt like he had cotton stuffed in his mouth.

 _"Show him"_ , his father whispered.  And his vision burst violently with stars and he saw everything - a rainbow of light weaving through the night sky, him, Shiro...everyone.  Everything.   _Show him_.

He woke up with a gasp.  It felt like he was breathing in shards of glass.  His lungs were killing him.  His jaw was sore.

Everything was blurry.  There was a bright light above him that was burning his eyes.  An annoying fucking beeping noise he couldn’t understand.  Shiro was there.

Shiro.  Keith reached out for him, grabbing onto his hand, trying to pull himself up.  “I don’t understand,” Keith muttered, still thinking of his father.  His mind was so fried.  Where was he?  When was he?  His mind was spinning out of control.  “What's happening?”

“It’s alright,” Shiro murmured softly, soothing Keith’s hair back and trying to guide him back onto the pillow.  “You’re okay.”

“You’re here...”  Keith blinked, trying to talk around the gross dry feeling in his mouth, trying to look around for...something.  He wasn’t sure what.  Words were eluding him.  His mind felt like it was going in multiple different directions at once.  He couldn’t make sense of himself.  “Where’s Kerberos?”

“What?  Keith, calm down.  You’re not making any sense.”

“Shiro?”

“Yeah.  I’m right here.”

“Shiro.”’

“It’s me.  Shh, shh.  Go back to sleep.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“My father said...he said you’re...you’re listening?”

“Mm.  I’m listening.”

Ugh, god, he was getting flashes of everything.  Ice.  Sky.  Voltron.  The blue lion.  The red lion.  The black lion.  Those mountains in the desert.  “Kerberos.  The rainbows!  I know what they are!  The lions...  Oh, you don’t need to go.  Those caves in the desert...”  He cringed against the visions, gripping Shiro’s hand tighter in his.

“I know, Keith.  It’ll be okay.”

“God, that can’t be good,” another voice said lowly.  “Should I get the nurse?”

“No,” Shiro said, aside.  “He was like this earlier.  The nurse said it’d pass.”

“Yeah, but...”

“He just needs some time.”

“But how _much time_?  Shiro...”

“It’s...fine.  Matt.  Just stop.  Please.”

Keith breathed in deeply, remembering.  “Matt.  You save Matt.  They call you ‘champion’ and you save him.”

“Champion, huh?”  Shiro leaned back toward Keith, resting his head beside Keith’s and brushing his fingers through his hair.  “That sounds pretty cool.”

“It’s not.  You hate it.  It brings you so much pain.  Shiro, please listen to me.”

“I am, Keith.”

Keith struggled, trying to find the right words.  He felt time pressing him down, racing with him when both of his feet and hands were tied.  He fought.  

“Shiro, I want you to be with me.”

A small laugh.  “Of course.”

“In the sky.  Through the stars.  I’ll be in the red one.  You’ll be in the black.  Lance is there too.  And his friend, Hunk.  And Katie.”

“What about me?”  Matt said.

Keith drifted.  He could feel as the last of his energy faded out of him even as he tried to desperately hold on.  It was important they know.  Maybe then Shiro wouldn’t have to go.  “...Pidge’ll let you co-pilot.”

“Who’s Pidge?”  A squawk.  “Co-pilot?”

And he was out again.

 

Ice everywhere.  That saw.  The pain in Shiro’s arm.  The fever afterward.  And that ring.  The killing.

Keith swam through it, memories of a time that he needed to stop, that he needed to do _something_ about.  He needed to convince Shiro he wasn’t insane, but _how_?  How?  

He blinked awake groggily, looking over toward the twisting white light in the corner.  Slowly, as time faded around him, he saw as it came into focus.  A window.  A window with the curtains drawn over them.

His head was heavy.  It took a huge effort to turn his face to the other side, but it was worth it because Shiro was there.  

He was sitting back in his seat, legs kicked out and crossed over the bottom of Keith’s bed.  There was a frown on his brow as his eyes scanned over the pages.  

“Shiro,” Keith whispered, choking on the dryness in his throat.

Shiro looked up in surprise, his brow disintegrating and a smile crossing his face.  He pushed his reading glasses up and off his face. “ _Keith_.  Hey there.”

“...Hey.”

Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand in his, gently thumbing over the thin skin on the top of his hand as he leaned over to the nightstand to grab a cup of water.  “How are you feeling?”

“...Thirsty.”

Shiro made a small hum as he cautiously held the cup out.  “Want help?  You dropped it last time.”

“...I don’t remember.”

“It’s okay.  Here.  It’ll be easier this way.”  Shiro brought the cup to Keith’s lips and very carefully, very slowly, helped Keith drink.

“What happened?”

“Quite a bit.  Anthony did a number on you.  But everything’s going to be okay now.”

Keith hummed, trying to look down at himself, but his neck wasn’t cooperating.

“Someone from your class followed you out.  Came running to get me.  ...I came as quickly as you could, but I...  I didn’t know where you were.”

“You found me?”  Keith murmured.

Shiro’s eyes went tight, his mouth pressed together.  “Yeah.”  There was bitterness there as he remembered.  Anger.  Hurt.  That little innocent boy who believed in the goodness in peoples’ hearts was changing, little by little.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said.

“You didn’t fight back,” Shiro whispered, head hanging.

“No.”

“ _Why_?  It was what I said, wasn’t it?  I let this happen.  This is all my fault.”

“Anthony did this, Shiro.  Not you.  I didn’t want to fight anymore.  I tried...to get them to stop.  But it didn’t work.  I’m no good at it.”

Shiro took in a deep sharp breath that caught and hung.  He shook his head sharply.  “Let’s not...  Um.  Matt’s been visiting.  Lance too.  He and his friend came.  They brought you a card.”

“Wow,” Keith followed Shiro’s gesture and saw an arrangement of cards there.  He blinked in surprise.  “Who are the others from?”

“Katie came for a day.  She tried to bring flowers, but they wouldn’t let her.  She cut her hair, I swear she looks just like Matt.  And I talked to Ryou awhile back. He sent you a card too.”

“Any from you?”

“I...  I haven’t really left.”

Keith smiled, trying to stretch out his body as much as he dared, wiggling his toes.  “Everytime I remember waking up, I remember you.”

“That’s what I wanted.  If I had to leave, I made sure Matt was here.  I don’t trust you to be here alone.”

For the first time, Keith noticed the cot over by the window.  It looked hard and uncomfortable, one shabby blanket on top.  “Oh, Shiro, no...”

“I wanted to.  I wouldn’t have been able to rest in my room.  Trust me.  I wanted to be with you.”

“Thank you,” Keith whispered, staring up into Shiro’s eyes.  

“You’re welcome,” Shiro smiled, tenderness melting the tension from his face.  He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Keith’s cheek.  

Keith nestled into it, drawn toward Shiro’s warmth.  Shiro pulled back an inch, looking into Keith’s eyes, before shifting so that he could place a kiss on Keith’s mouth.

Keith’s lips were beyond chapped and everything felt gross and dirty.  He wanted an hour long bath, at the least.  But Shiro still hummed into it like it was the best feeling in the world and Keith could feel the smile stretching his lips as he kept them against Keith’s.

“How long?”  Keith whispered after he pulled back.

“Hm?”

“How long was I out?”

Shiro took in a deep breath.  “...It’s been about two weeks.”

“ _Two weeks?”_ Keith shouted, or tried to at least.  His throat caught on the words and it came out like a whistle, sending him into a coughing fit.  “Two weeks!”

Shiro’s two hands came to settle around Keith’s face, brushing his hair back, soothing away the tense lines in his brow.  “Shh, it’s alright.  Everything will be okay.”

“You’re _leaving_ .  When are you leaving?  There’s not enough _time_.”

“Not enough time for what, Keith?”

“To _convince you_ _that you need to stay!_ ”

“...Keith...  We’ve been over this.  We still have a few days left together, okay?  We’ll talk to the doctor.  Your body is doing a lot better.  You’ll probably be able to walk around soon.  We can go to the arcade one last time and -”

“-I don't want the fucking arcade, Shiro!  I want you to _live_.”

Shiro took in a deep breath.  And then out.  “Keith.”

“You don’t understand!  I had more dreams.  I _get it now_.”

“I know.  You talked a lot in your sleep about it.”

“And what?”  Keith said, going still, trying to scope out all he could from Shiro’s expression.  “What did I say?  What did you think?”

“A lot of the things you said didn’t make any sense, but one thing you repeated over and over was that it was your dad leading you to me, trying to give you a...gift or something?  ...I thought you said your father was dead.”

“He was,” Keith muttered, eyes falling downward, on their hands, still held together.  “He is.”

“...Keith, they’re dreams.”

“ _Shiro_.  Look at my arm.  Look at it.  There’s a scar there, it isn’t mine.  It’s from you.”

Shiro carefully pulled the cloth away from Keith’s arm.  With a gentle touch, he ran his fingers over the scar there.  “I’m sorry, Keith...”  He said, voice low in sorrow.  “All I see are the marks you made.”

“ _No_ ,” Keith groaned, leaning forward to look over at his arm.  Shiro was right.  The mark was gone.  “ _No!_  It was _just there_ the other day, I swear!  Ask Lance!  He saw it!”

“Keith, even if it was...what - what do you want me to do with that info?  I have to go.”

“You don’t!  You can _stay_!”  Keith pressed his shaky palms into his eyes, shaking his head.  “Just stay.”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, voice breaking.  “Please.  Don’t.  You have no idea how much I want to.  No idea...   _Please,_ stop asking that of me...”  He pulled away, pressing a hand over his face as he shrunk into the darkness.  

He looked so tired.  His throat bobbed.  His breath hitched.  

“I know,” Shiro’s voice trembled.  “I know how much it hurt you when your father left you.  You talked about that too...  You said that this feels the same, that it’s like I’m abandoning you.  And I’m so sorry it’s hurting you like that, but it’s not the same.  It’s not.  I’m coming back.  I promise.”

“ _Shiro_.”  Keith whispered.  

Tears were pouring down Shiro’s face, splashing onto his lap. This was killing him.  Keith watched in shocked silence, torn apart at the sight of the hurt in someone who was usually so happy.

“I’ll come back to you,” Shiro whispered.  “I promise you, I will.”

The argument died on Keith’s lips.  He was killing Shiro.  Every word he said hurt him more.

“...Come here,” Keith muttered, opening his arms.

“I don’t want to fight,” Shiro murmured, defeated.  He sunk forward into Keith’s open arms, face pressing into Keith’s neck.  His voice was raw with tears.  “I’ve missed you so much.  ...Seeing you hurt like this...  I get it.  I get your dreams terrify you.  I’ve been feeling it these past two weeks watching your maimed body.  I’ve felt so helpless.  If I could, I’d stay...”

“I know, Shiro,” Keith pressed a kiss to the side of his head.  He ran his fingers down the base of Shiro’s neck, brushing the skin there.  “I know...  I’m sorry.  I’ll shut up about it.  I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry too.”  Shiro pressed his face deeper into Keith’s hair so that his whole face was buried.  

“Come here,” Keith said, heaving himself to the side, pain radiating through his body.  Stiff and unused, most likely.  He tried to grab and lift Shiro, but his arms were weak.

Shiro understood though, lifting from his seat and sliding beside him.  

“You’re okay?  You’re not hurting?”

“I’m good,” Keith hummed, leaning his head onto Shiro’s as Shiro settled into the warmth of his neck.  “I’m better than good.  Thank you for being here with me, Shiro.”

“Of course, Keith.  Thank you for letting me.”

Shiro contented himself with pressing gentle kisses to the sensitive skin beneath Keith’s jaw while Keith ran his fingers through his hair.  They stayed like that, tenderly holding each other until Shiro fell asleep, face shoved into the protection of the curve of his neck and shoulder.

Keith dozed for awhile. The nurse came, frowning a little as she saw the addition to the bed, but when Keith saw her and his eyes went wide with panic, she smiled patiently, holding her hands up.  She let Keith keep Shiro.

Matt visited a few hours later, stopping at the door and staring for a blank moment, as if wondering if he should leave.

Keith spotted him, having been staring blankly at the ceiling, and nodded him in.

“He’s out...”  Matt said, still watching Shiro like he were some wild animal in his natural habitat.  “I don’t think I’ve seen him sleep these past two weeks.  How are you feeling?”

“A bit like a truck ran over me.  I imagine being still so long didn’t help.”

“Oh, no worries, Shiro tried to massage you as much as he could to stimulate the circulation.”

“Did he really...?”  Keith muttered, holding Shiro a bit closer, tucked beneath his neck.

“He complimented your feet more than once.”

“Wh-what are you trying to say?”

Matt just laughed.  “I’m kidding.  He looks like a kid like that,” Matt said, tilting his head fondly as he took a seat in Shiro’s chair.  “He barely even fits on that bed with you.  You really bring out another side of him.”

“...How has he been?  We talked about Anthony for a moment, but he changed the subject pretty quickly.  He looked upset.”

Matt was quiet as he brought a finger to his lip, rubbing it thoughtfully.  He frowned as he hesitated.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never seen him like that...  It was...terrifying.   I think he’s been worried something like this would happen.  And then he was the one to find you, covered in your own blood, unconscious.  When I got there, he was in basically in hysterics.  He kind of...unraveled for awhile.  He was angry and unreasonable all the time.  He’d snap at anyone over anything.  He just wanted to stay beside you like some rabid guard dog.  He didn’t want to eat or drink.  I basically had to cram it down his throat.”

“...He yelled at you?”

Matt let out a small laugh as he scratched his cheek.  “I mean, I got it.  Just the day before you guys were basically feeding each other at the table, and the next...  I got it.  It was just hard to see him like that.  I thought he was the type who could handle anything, but...seeing this was just too much for him.  They didn’t know if you’d die.”

“...It was that bad?”

“Well, you _were_ in a coma for two weeks and you have to feel pain in your stomach.  I mean, you were stabbed through.  Anthony just really sucks at stabbing in the right spot...”

Shiro took in a deep breath and Keith looked down, wondering if he’d wake.  He didn’t though.  He shifted, seeking out Keith’s warmth as he snuggled into it, and continued on sleeping.

“It was a mess.  I hear the closet is still taped off.”

“And Anthony?”

“Can you believe they didn't want to get rid of him?  Typical, isn’t it?” Matt said, crossing his arms.  “His father has put a lot of money into this school for years now and they didn't want to lose that. The other two fights were definitely not working in your favor.  But when you started getting better, Shiro went around rallying for it.  He’d get me to watch you and then he’d go out there and talk to everyone.  I think he pulled every connection he had.  He really fought for it.  He even went to Anthony's father.  And, lo and behold, he did it.  Anthony’s still on campus for a few more days to pack, but when Shiro leaves, Anthony has to.  I honestly didn’t think he would be able to convince them, but he did. ...He wanted this place to be safe for you while we're away.”

“Shiro did that for me?”  Keith wondered aloud.  Someone to protect him.  Someone to care for him and worry about him when he was hurt.  He never thought he’d have these things, but there it was, in one single package, all wrapped up in one loving bow.

“He really cares for you.”  Matt watched Shiro for a moment, biting his bottom lip.  He tapped the side of his glasses as he thought.  “...I don’t know if I should say this, but he tried to quit the Kerberos mission.”

“ _What_?”  Keith balked, eyes going wide as he stared at Matt.

Matt watched him patiently through his glasses.  “He went to Iverson and told him he wants to stay here with you.  That you’re hurt.  That the Garrison didn’t do enough to keep you safe and if he hadn’t been there, then what?  But there’s so much money and resources that’s already been pulled for this mission.  Shiro can’t just back out now because his boyfriend got hurt, you know?  Iverson was mad.  He was already irritated about losing Anthony’s father’s funding and then this...  He told Shiro if he quit, then he quits on the Garrison, he quits on everything he worked for.  He said he’d turn Shiro out.  And when Shiro said he was fine with that, Iverson said he’d kick you out too and make sure every other piloting school in the country knew of your names.”

“...Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  As punishment.  Iverson made a gamble.  He knew Shiro cared more about your career than his.  And Shiro couldn’t handle calling him on his bluff.  So he gave up on that.”

“...Shiro didn’t tell me that,” Keith murmured as he watched Shiro’s still face.  He looked as innocent as Keith imagined him whenever he spoke about the goodness in people.  His face was so soft, so open and vulnerable.

“Well, it didn’t work.  We’re still going to Kerberos.  ...But we’ll be careful, Keith.  I promise, I’ll protect Shiro with my life.  Whatever you dreamed, I won’t let it become true.  You have my word.”

Keith looked up at Matt, tears forming in his eyes he was so touched.  “...Thanks, Matt.  I care about you too, you know.  I don't want any of you hurt.”

“Everything will be fine.  My father loves Shiro like a son, probably even more than he loves me,” he laughed.  “So he’s got the protection of a dad too.  That’s powerful stuff.”

“...Yeah,” Keith hummed, but his heart wasn’t in it.  The protection of a dad.  “Powerful stuff.”

 _Show him_.

Shiro inhaled sharply, stretching out his body slowly.  He blinked his eyes open and cringed against the light.  When he rolled onto his back, he smiled up at Keith.  “Hi, there.”

“Hey,” Keith said, leaning over carefully to kiss him on the forehead.

Shiro hummed happily, reaching up and holding Keith’s head in both of his palms, kissing him on the mouth passionately.

Keith made a small surprised noise in the back of his throat.  Shiro broke off, only just noticing Matt.  “Oh.  Hi.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty.  I would ask how you’re doing, but I can already see.”

Shiro laughed, wrapping his arms back around Keith’s small waist and burying his face back into Keith’s neck.  Keith held him tightly.

 

It took a couple of days for the doctor to fully approve letting Keith out and about.  He couldn’t resume classes, but he was permitted to rest in Shiro’s bed in his room as long as Shiro watched him and they sent in daily reports.  

It was much nicer in there, just the two of them, surrounded by familiar things, having Shiro dote on him.  The only downside was that the bed was bigger, so Shiro was careful to give Keith more room, when all Keith wanted was to hold him close.

It was easy to fall into a routine together.  It was like they were on the same wavelength.  They fit together effortlessly.

They brushed their teeth together, side by side at the same sink, arm pressing against arm.  “Cinnamon toothpaste?”  Keith gawked when he first saw it, grabbing the tube and shoving it in Shiro’s face.  “What do you use cinnamon for?  Everyone always uses mint.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing out on.  Try it.  I swear, it’ll change your life.”

“You’re crazy,” Keith muttered, but he got a strip of it on his toothbrush anyway, wet it, and shoved it in his mouth.

Shiro watched his face closely, victorious smile already growing on his lips.  “Am I right or what?”

Keith took the toothbrush out of his mouth, frowning around foam.  “You’re right,” he muttered.

Shiro laughed.

They did everything together.  They ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner on the couches together, feet kicked out on the table, talking about whatever their hearts desired as the tv went on the background.  They woke together.  They watched the same dumb late night shows together, laughing at all the same dumb parts.  They went to sleep together, nestling into each other's sides.

They really were a pair made in heaven.  They loved every moment they had together.

But the days passed by until they only had one.  Tomorrow would be their last day together.  Keith found himself staring up at the ceiling more than not, wondering what else he could do.  How could he lose this?  How could he go back to how things were before Shiro showed him what life could be like?

Keith was desperate.  He even stooped so low as to whisper to his father for help on several occasions, but there was no response.  He shouldn’t have been so surprised.

In a handful of hours, Keith would be alone.  Shiro might not ever return.  And Keith had to live with his decisions thus far.  He had failed.  He knew he had failed.

There were so many things that they had wanted to do together before Shiro left, but Keith’s body just wouldn’t allow it.  He was still tenderized meat.  Though he could get around alright, if he moved too quickly or pushed himself too hard, he could feel himself coming undone from his core, unraveling from the inside out.  

Shiro was in the shower as Keith clicked through the stations on the television, staring blankly.  With a big sigh, he turned it off and tossed the remote away.  He let his head sag back and he stared up at the ceiling, where his eyes conjured up constellations, maps to other worlds.

A feeling developed in his gut.  It was the same feeling he had every time he went on the roof with his father and looked to the sky.  It felt something like fate.  He took in a deep breath.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith called, running his hands over the scar on his stomach that was healing hard and itchy.  It didn’t look real or feel like a part of his skin.  It just felt like a piece of tape someone stuck on him.  “I’ve thought of something I want to do with you before you leave.”

Shiro poked his head around the door, rubbing a towel over the top of his head.  “Let’s do it.  What is it?”

“I want to show you something.  On the rooftop.  I know we’re not supposed to be out there, but...  I think it’d be nice to lay out together and look at the stars.  My father and I used to do that a lot too.  Every night.”

Shiro’s smile was warm.  “That sounds nice.  Feeling up to the walk or should I carry you?”

“Are _you_ feeling up to the walk?  I could carry you, too.”

Shiro laughed, the sound twinkling and fond.  “That sounds nice.  Maybe we’ll wait until you’re fully recovered.”

 _And then some_ , Keith thought, but he pushed it away, sitting up.  He could feel his skin tugging and stretching, but it wasn’t bad.  He still had bruises that made him look worse than he felt.  

“Okay,” Shiro said, digging through the closet and tossing Keith a blanket and one of his own jackets.  “Ready?”

“Wait, wait, your hair’s still wet.”

“So?”

“You’ll catch a cold out there,” he grumbled, tossing himself from the bed and going into the bathroom.  He rummaged for the blow dryer and gestured Shiro forward.  

“I have like less than an inch of hair,” Shiro chuckled warmly, grabbing a seat and pulling it into the bathroom to sit in front of Keith.

Keith patted Shiro’s shoulders and then ran his hands through his forelock.  “We have time.  You can see the stars better the later it gets anyway.  I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said, smiling as he flicked on the switch.  “Welcome to my barber shop.”

Shiro chuckled low in his throat, leaning into Keith’s touch as Keith ran his hands through his hair gently, parting it for the air to get through.  

“I feel like a pampered prince,” Shiro grinned, eyes closed.  

“Good.  That’s just what I want.  ...I wish I could repay you for all you’ve done to care for me.  I hope you know how much you’ve changed me,” Keith said, voice going soft.  So soft that it almost was drowned out by the sound of the dryer, buzzing lowly.

Shiro quieted.  “And you me,” he said just as softly.

It didn’t take long for Shiro’s forelock to dry.  The rest was basically dry the moment he stepped out of the shower.  

Keith flicked the switch off, running his hand through Shiro’s bangs and to the back.  He nodded in satisfaction as he looked up at their reflections in the mirror.  He smiled at Shiro, who smiled right back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“You’re good,” Keith said softly, letting his hands rest on Shiro’s shoulders.

“Yeah?  You need a bath too?  I could blow dry your hair for you also.  It looks like it’d be fun to do.”  He reached out, grabbing a strand of Keith’s grown out hair and playing with it between gentle fingers.  It had grown even longer while Keith was in the hospital.  It was the longest it had been since meeting Shiro. “It looks good like this.”

“You think so?” Keith ducked to hide a blush.

“Yeah,” Shiro whispered, rising from his seat to press a kiss to Keith’s lips.  And then another.  Keith gave in to him, opening his mouth to Shiro’s and they kissed for a moment, soft and tender, Shiro’s arms wrapping around Keith’s waist as he pulled him closer, breathing him in.

Keith was the one to break it off, letting his hands skim down Shiro’s arms and catch his fingers in his.  “Come on,” he whispered, biting his lip.  “I don’t want to miss them.”

“Yes.  Up you go,” Shiro hummed happily, leaning down to scoop Keith up into his arms.

“Shiro!”  Keith laughed, wrapping his arms around his neck and humming as he pressed his face into his shoulder.  “I said I could walk.”

“Oh, I know.  I want to carry you anyway.”

“What if someone sees?”

“It’s so late, who’s going to be out?  And besides, I don’t care who sees.  Do you?”

It was a feat, letting himself be held and carried like some weak doll.  But with Shiro, he could give in.  

Keith gazed up at his face, his warm radiant face.  He wanted to enjoy this, everything about Shiro, as it lasted.  He smiled up at him.  “Mmm, guess not.”

On their way past the bed, Shiro leaned over and Keith snatched up the blanket and jackets, holding them to his chest.  “All good?”  

“Chocolate,” Keith said.  “I want chocolate too.”

“There’s some already in my jacket.”

Keith snorted.  “You know me too well.”

Shiro shrugged with a smile on his face that made him look very pleased with himself.

As he carried him through the quiet Garrison hallways, Keith brushed his hand against Shiro's jawline, letting his head tilt back so he could watch Shiro.  He was sleepy already, but sleep was irrelevant with how little time they had left.  He didn’t intend to succumb to it until Shiro was gone.  Then he could sleep all he wanted.  The more, the better.  But, for now, he just wanted to take in the sight of Shiro’s face.  Memorize the way he moved and the times that he smiled and the tone of his voice.  

Even though Keith saw his father in his dreams, he had only gained him back those few moments.  And now, again, he couldn’t conjure his face or his voice.  He lost his father in so many ways those years ago.  He couldn’t let that happen with Shiro.

“This reminds me of before,” Keith said, “When you came in the middle of the night to help me.  After Lance got you.”

Shiro hummed.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone in that much pain.  It scared me.”

“It scared me too.  But when I saw you, I felt better.”

Shiro held him tighter, but didn’t say anything.  Keith could see as his eyes grew distant for a moment, somber.

They hadn’t talked about Kerberos much.  After what Matt said, Keith knew there was no reason to push it.  It’d only make Shiro sad.  Shiro never mentioned that he’d tried to call it off, or the punishments that’d follow if he didn’t go.  He didn’t mention anything about it.

When they got to the rooftop door, Keith reached for his knife, only to come up empty.

“Oh, yeah,” he grumbled unhappily.  Shiro wouldn’t sneak a knife in for him.  Something about it always getting him in trouble.

Shiro snorted as he set Keith down to his feet with gentle grace.  “I have a key,” he said, producing it from his pockets.

“A key?”

“Yeah, I’m not a _student_ ,” he laughed.  “I have privileges.  I’m supposed to be the one chasing people away from the rooftops, so they trusted me with this.”

“Are you serious?”  Keith laughed lowly, watching him unlock the door.  “This feels like an abuse of power.”

“I’ll just blame it all on you if we get caught.”

Keith laughed again, slipping past Shiro and through the doorway.  “You’re horrible.”

“Yeah, that’d be pretty bad.  I couldn’t do that.”

“Well, it was my idea to come up here,” Keith hummed, turning around to look out at the sky.  No clouds.  No obstructions.  Just the open starry sky.  The clean playful wind.  The sleeping desert spreading beneath them into the horizon.  Everything looked set up for them, set at their feet, a build up after all these months.

Tonight was the night.  And if it wasn’t, all hope was lost.

But his father made a promise that he would help.  And this time, Keith would put his trust in him.

“Okay, Dad,” Keith whispered.  As the wind blew past him, he looked above, eyes imploring.  “If there was ever a time for you to care for me, do it now.  Help me.”

“What’s that?”  Shiro said around a yawn, walking up behind Keith and slipping his arms around him.

Keith leaned back into his hold.  “Tired already?  Laying down’s not going to help.”

“Nuh-uh.  I’m not going to sleep tonight.  Should’ve got some coffee,” Shiro said, blinking his eyes in an attempt to fight off the sleepiness.  He clapped his hands to his cheeks.  “There we go.  That’s better.”

“Good...”  Keith muttered, sighing.  His attention was elsewhere.  His focus drifted back up, toward the sky.  

“Come sit,” Shiro said, grabbing the blanket from Keith’s hold and shaking it out.  He spread it onto the roof, taking a side.  He gestured Keith over.  “You okay?”

“I’m good,” Keith muttered, but he could feel the frown on his brow.  The stars were still.  He’d have to be patient, he told himself, but he found himself antsy.

Shiro took in a deep breath, pressing his lips together as he looked over the desert.  When he thought Keith wasn’t looking, he let his mask down.  Like then.  Out of the corner of his eyes, Keith allowed himself to see the Shiro that he hid away, the Shiro that was sad.  

Shiro was biting his lip, frowning into the expansive scene below, as if it was the one pulling them apart.  

“See anything?”  Shiro asked, voice unchanged.

“...Lots of things.  You can see them too.  I already know.  It’s what I like about you.”

Shiro chuckled and hummed.  “And all along I thought you were after my money.”

Keith was caught up in the stars, in the chant in his head, a prayer: _please_ , _please, please, don’t let me down, not now, not here, please_.

“...Keith?”  Shiro said softly, reaching over to thread a strand of hair behind his ear.

Keith blinked over.  “Hm?”

Shiro watched him for a moment before tugging the smile back on his face.  “You _are_ after my money, aren’t you?”

Keith snorted wearily.  “What money?”

“I’ve got loads of it.  Bursting out of the seams in my bed.”

“Uh-huh.  Is that why your bed’s so comfortable?”

“You can stay there, you know,” Shiro said softly as Keith frowned back up to the sky.  “Iverson said he won’t touch anything in my room and you have the code.  I’ve told him I want you to be able to go there in case you need to, whenever you want.  He gave you permission.”

 _Pilot Error_.  The words stabbed into his mind, vivid, as if he were listening to the actual announcement.  It was sudden, like a punch to the gut.  He could feel the horror running through his veins.

Keith groaned, pressing his face into his knees.

Shiro’s hands were on him immediately, one arm over his back protectively and the other gently brushing his hand, trying to coax him up.  “Keith? Keith, are you alright?”

 _They blame it on_ _him,_ he realized and immediately, he felt ill.  Shiro, the best pilot Keith knew.  Shiro, the best _person_ Keith knew.  He was pinned with an error he did not make.   _They blame it all on him._

“What’s hurting you?”  Shiro worried, voice soft as he pressed his face to Keith’s ear.

“Iverson’s a piece of shit,” Keith bit out.

“Huh?”  Shiro drew back.  

Keith was breathing heavily, pressing the base of his palms harder and harder into his eyes, until it hurt and his vision bled with toxic colors.  

“Keith, you’ll hurt yourself.  Stop that.”

“You don’t see anything?”  Keith breathed out desperately.

Shiro was silent, his fingers slowing to a stop.

“There’s _nothing_ up there?  Nothing at all?  You don’t _see anything_?”  Keith lifted his head, jerking his hand toward the sky.

Shiro was watching him sadly, his eyes dull and resigned as if he knew this moment would come and he dreaded it.  “...I can see the stars.  I can see the mix of colors up there, in space.”

“That’s where you’ll be soon,” Keith said, throat tightening as he looked up into that wide gaping darkness, that hole that was going to suck up everything he loved and never spit back out.

“Keith, let’s go back -”

“ _No_.  We have to stay here until you see it.”

“-Keith.”

“Don’t.  ...Please.  Just wait here with me.  ...Any moment now.  It’ll happen at any moment.”

Shiro looked as if he might say something again, but he sighed instead, his perfect posture sinking beneath weight.  The smile was gone.  

The sky remained unchanged.  Keith sat there, staring up at it hard, as if it could respond to him, but it did not budge beneath his will.

Finally, Shiro said, gently, “There’s nothing, Keith.  It’s just a silly juvenile rumor.  I heard it all throughout my years here too.  ‘Your soulmate will be revealed if you sit on the rooftop and watch the stars.’  ...I’ve known tons of people who’ve tried it, all came back disappointed.  It’s a rumor.  It’s fake.”

“ _My father said_ he’d show you.  He said he’d help me. He said...he told me everything would be alright.”

Shiro grimaced, pain stabbing through his face, hurting his eyes.

Keith understood that look.  It was pity.  

He let out a small laugh, brushing the hair from his eyes in a quick tense gesture.  “...I guess he also told me that he’d be back too, and that was over a decade ago...”

The stars twinkled innocently above.  Keith looked toward each one he could, sending out a silent plea.  Maybe if just _one_ heard him.  One was all it would take.

Shiro asked quietly, “The launch is tomorrow.  We’re only allowed family.  ...Will you come?”

“The stars...they’ll show you...  You’ll see by then...you’re not meant to go...”

Keith trembled.  He had been a fool, once again.  Trusting that fate had his back for once.  Trusting the stars he had sworn himself to forsake.

It was his mistake, and yet, he found himself still wishing upon them.  

“Any moment now,” he whispered, pushing himself to his feet.  “It’ll start to get really cold.  And the stars will fall, one at a time, then two, then three.  The sky will burn, but still, it just becomes colder and colder.  The world freezes over.  The stars fall to earth.  And then...”

Keith’s feet brought him out to the edge, looking up, the desert literally beneath his feet.

“Keith, don’t get so close.”

“...Why aren’t they showing you...?”  He despaired, throat tightening.

Shiro grabbed him by the waist and tugged him back so that they were a few feet from the edge and back into safety.  “Maybe it takes awhile, Keith,” he said softly.  

Pity again.  Shiro was just being kind.

The rain and falling stars he wished for did not come, but Keith’s cheeks began to streak with cold.  His face began to twist.  His tears fell down his cheeks and to the ground.  He couldn’t believe it.  His father had lied to him.  Again.  It was an unforgivable lie.  Now, everything was lost.

“Keith...”  Shiro whispered, fingers reaching up for his face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he choked on a sob.  The admission was horrible.  He had promised himself he wouldn’t say that to Shiro, not ever, but it was too late.  It’d left him.

“I know, Keith.  I know.”

“I only just got you.”

“I know...”

Keith couldn’t look at them anymore.  He turned to Shiro.  He felt so hollow.  So stunned.  He let his head fall forward, pressing his face into Shiro's collarbone.  And then he cried.  He reached shaking arms up and around Shiro's neck and just cried.  He tried to reel himself in, to keep it together for Shiro the best he could, but the dam was broken and there was no stopping it now.  Everything poured out of him, emptying his heart onto Shiro’s skin.

He was sobbing.  He cried because he’d failed.  He cried because he’d believed his father would be there this time, and he wasn’t.  He cried because they’d had such little time together.  But, worse of all, he cried because that open sky hanging over their head had been a beautiful thing in his life for so long, it had given him hope, had given him reason to look forward to a future.  But now, it was what would take away the one person who’d ever offered a hand to Keith and held steady.  The best, sweetest, kindest person who deserved the world would be taken by the black mass up in the sky.  Ripped from Keith, who knew enough that he could’ve stopped it.

Shiro held Keith tightly in an embrace, one hand on the back of his head, the other wrapped around his waist.  Shiro had big hands and Keith was very small.  The hold was all-encompassing, blocking out the rest of the world, shielding his weak heart from reality.

Shiro leaned in, leaving a trail of kisses down Keith’s face, starting at the softness of his temple and following his tears to his jawline.

“It’s alright, Keith,” Shiro whispered to him in between kisses, rocking him gently.  His voice was tight and caught in his throat.  “I’ve got you.  Everything’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t.  It wouldn’t be.  Keith couldn’t stop crying.   _Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go_.  He grit his teeth against the words as they overwhelmed him.  He clawed into Shiro’s shirt as tightly as he could.  He couldn’t imagine the moment he would ever let him go.

Shiro brought them over to the blanket, sitting Keith on his lap, rubbing soothing circles into his back.  He tucked Keith’s head beneath his jaw and rocked them softly, side to side.  “Shh...”  He soothed, caressing away the tears.

Gentle in everything he did.  So kind.  So caring.

Keith pulled back, looking up into Shiro’s face, taking in the pain and the hurt.  Shiro's eyes were shining, reflecting the stars, filled with tears of his own.  He watched Keith back, trying for a smile for a moment before it fell away, twisted and wrong.

He shook his head and laughed sadly, turning his eyes up to the stars, seeking out answers that wouldn’t come.   “I wish I could see what you did...  I wish I could.  I tried.  I did.”

Keith nodded, swallowing hard.  He reached up for Shiro’s face, holding him there with shaking hands.

“We both did our best,” Keith whispered, more tears forming and pouring over his cheeks as he looked into Shiro’s face, more beautiful than any of the stars surrounding them.  He nodded again, trying to convince himself, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood.  “We both tried our best.”

“I think so,” Shiro whispered back, letting his forehead fall to Keith’s.

Keith kept his hand on Shiro’s face, watching the tears wind down his hand.  There was so much hurt on his face.  Shiro pressed his eyes closed and let himself sag beneath it, each tear coming faster than the last.

Keith kissed one away.  And then the next.  He pressed his lips to Shiro’s cheeks and tried to heal him the best he could, with the gentleness that Shiro had taught him, with the kindness Shiro had shown him inside of himself.

He had changed so much in the last few months and couldn’t ever repay that kindness.

He’d never felt like that before, so torn open and helpless.  He’d never wanted anything as badly as for Shiro to stay.  To live with it being torn from his hands was the worst feeling Keith hadn’t known even existed.  It was worse than when his parents left him because back then, he hadn’t known.  He had thought they'd be back.  Back then, he had been a child and the edges of things were blurred and adaptable.

He couldn’t live with the thought of Shiro going and dying without him.

He pulled Shiro close to him.  He didn’t know what to say or what to do.  There were a thousand thoughts going around in his head and it was cluttering him up, confusing him.  He didn’t want that anymore.  He just wanted one thing and that was Shiro.  

But he would never have him.

Keith bit back a sob, trying to muffle it.  Shiro caught Keith before he could shy away, holding his neck between both of his hands, sliding his face across Keith’s.  He turned and opened Keith’s mouth with his, breathing in sharply, kissing him deeply.

It was not like their other kisses.  Their other kisses had been sweet and soft, flowing easily between the two of them as they shared their love and happiness for eachother.  Light touches, like the wings of butterflies against warm sun-kissed skin.

No, this was burning and desperate.  Emotions sharp as knives had filled both of their souls to the brim, so much so that they couldn’t contain it within themselves anymore.  It was pouring out in a frantic release, the other catching it in their open hands.

Through the kiss, Keith could feel Shiro’s understanding.  The desperation, the wishes that couldn’t be fulfilled.  How this was all Shiro could give him.  He wouldn’t be back tomorrow or the next day or the next.  It was just tonight.  This was their last moment together.

Keith grabbed into Shiro tightly, trying to stop the shaking.  His gasps tore from his chest, half sobs, as he pressed himself into Shiro’s comfort harder, seeking a relief from this feeling, grabbing whatever skin he could, holding onto him desperately.

“ _Shiro_ ,” burned from his throat.  “ _Shiro_.”

Shiro moaned into his mouth, whispering Keith’s name in response, an echo of each other.  His hands reached up into Keith’s shirt, fingers spread, digging into the flesh, palms pressed against his back, bringing him in as close as he could.  Their bodies were flush against the other and still, somehow, it didn’t feel like enough.  It’d never be enough.  They could always be separated.  Keith needed more.

His shoulders trembled as he pressed his face into Shiro’s, their tears mixing into one, hands clawing into his hair tightly.

“Make me forget,” he breathed, sliding his fingers down Shiro’s back, leaving his marks on him.  “I don’t want to remember anymore.”

“Keith...”

He shoved his face into Shiro’s neck so he couldn’t see anything anymore, could only feel Shiro’s arms around him, holding him tightly, close, whole.  He place his hand over Shiro’s chest, feeling the soft steady thumps of his beautiful pure heart against his fingers.

“You’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Keith said softly, shaking his head.  “But tonight, you’re still mine.  I want to have a piece of you to keep with me when you’re gone.  And I want to give you a piece of me too...”

There was a moment of silence in which Shiro just breathed.  Slow.  Steady.  Just like his heart.

“Okay,” Shiro said softly, gently slipping his hand to Keith’s neck and moving him back slightly, enough to see his face.  He swallowed hard, brushing his fingers against Keith’s lips.  “If that’s what you want, I want it too.”

“I’ve always wanted you.  I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

“Me too,” Shiro whispered, leaning in and taking Keith by the mouth.

A different side of Shiro.  One no one had ever seen before.  A secret Shiro that only Keith had been allowed to see, Keith had been able to feel, Keith had been able to  _know._ The firmness of his hands against Keith’s neck, the way his mouth worked against Keith’s, hard this time, but still somehow with that sweetness he had in him, sewn into every bit of his spirit and character so it was always there, always his Shiro.

He was Keith’s.  He was the one person Keith would ever call his own.  He was so proud of it.  Even if this was the last time he felt Shiro, even if this was the last moment in his entire life, it was _theirs_.  He’d never let go of it.  No matter how much pain it brought him, he’d keep this moment in his heart forever.

Shiro reached in his back pocket for his wallet, the other hand still holding Keith firmly.  

His voice was shaking.  “I, uh...  I don’t...  I don’t know how to do this.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Keith said, placing a kiss to Shiro’s chin, and then to the side of his mouth, to the divot in his brow, smoothing it out.  “I don’t care.  It’s you.  I trust you.  We’ll take it slow.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispered.  He looked down at the items in his hand, lost.

“Prepared...”  Keith murmured, looking down with him with a small smile on his lips, a hint of mirth in his eyes.

Shiro ducked his head, face bleeding red.  “...I know.  Presumptuous.  I’ve had it for awhile.  I just thought...”

“No, I’m glad.  It’s okay.”  He closed his hand around Shiro’s.  “I’m happy.”

“Okay...”

They had no idea what they were doing, but wasn’t that part of the fun?  They were two people in love, figuring out together what lovers did, huffing soft laughter at clumsy attempts, faces red with embarrassment, letting themselves forget the rest of the world and everything terrible in it.  They looked up into the eyes of the person they were trusting themselves to, they person they had chosen, out of so many others, to share their love with.

“I’m glad it’s with you,” Shiro breathed into Keith’s ear, one hand in his hair, the other feeling inside Keith carefully, gentle slow exploration that left Keith breathing ragged.  “I’m so glad I found you.”

Keith inhaled with strained control, back arching into Shiro’s touch, fingers shaking as they clutched to his shirt.  “Me too.  More than you know.  Me too.”

He’d never thought in a million years that he’d be here.  Walking through the Garrison for the first time, even as he had hoped to maybe make a friend or two, dreaming of maybe someone he cared for, but never had he thought he could find a lover like Shiro.  He hadn’t known he could feel like this, chest torn open, raw and dangerously vulnerable, _but happy_.  So happy.

“Shiro,” he grit, hands twisting up his shirt.  “I can’t take anymore of this; I’m ready.”

“A-are you sure...?”

“Yeah.”  He breathed, pulling away to look at Shiro’s face.  He knew how wired he must look.  He was breathing hard, body burning all over despite the cold of the night.  He could feel it inside of himself, trying to reach out of him and pull Shiro in, this other side of himself he didn’t know.  “Please.”

“Okay,” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to Keith’s mouth.

“Okay,” Keith whispered back.

He was gentle in the way only Shiro could be.  Slow.  It wasn’t Keith’s usual style and he had to force himself to slow down, to take his time, to meet Shiro halfway.

The whole time, Shiro’s lips were pressed tightly together, brow furrowed, eyes sharp as he stared at Keith’s face, watching for signs of discomfort.

Keith was distracted at first, trying to settle his nerves against the strange new sensations, trying to make it so it _was_ okay.  As he loosened and eased, his eyes finally flicked up and he noticed Shiro’s expression.  He huffed out a small laugh.  “Stop that,” he pressed down a smile, shoving a hand to Shiro’s face, cupping it around his eyes.  “I’m fine.  It’s okay.”

“Yeah?  You look...”

“It’s just...a lot.  I need to get used to it.  You’re...”  He huffed again.  “I’m fine.  We’re together now,” he breathed.  “Of course I’m fine.”

“Yeah...”  Shiro pulled Keith’s hand from his face and weaved their fingers together, squeezing.  “We’re together.”

Keith leaned into him, kissing him softly on the mouth as he slowly tried to move.  It was more pain than pleasure at that point, but it was okay.  He’d take whatever he could while he still had the chance.

Gently, Shiro tugged them down.

As they kissed and Keith moved, it became easier and easier until the tension was gone and he was panting in Shiro’s mouth, small moans leaving him at the sound of Shiro’s soft grunting.  

Shiro had both of his hands wrapped around Keith’s hips, digging his fingers into the soft skin there, kneading and pulling as he moved up and into Keith.  Keith groaned.  He felt so open, so full in a way his mind was still trying to wrap itself around.  He and his Shiro.

 _Don’t leave me_ , he wanted to say as he cradled Shiro’s head to his, desperation welling inside of him as he felt everything inside of him.  Pleasure.  Sorrow.  Shiro.   _Stay_.

Instead of saying it, he closed his eyes and cried quietly, face turned to the sky, taking the last bit he could from this night before it faded away.  He listened to the sound of Shiro calling for him, voice sweet.  He locked it away in his heart.

Keith came first, biting back an overwhelmed cry into Shiro’s shoulder, his tears catching the light of the stars.

Shiro was right there with him, whispering his name like a prayer, over and over, in small clipped breaths.

And they just held each other.  They didn’t turn to the stars and hope.  They didn’t part and curse tomorrow.  They just held the other in their arms, embracing the moment and locking it away in their hearts, seeking comfort in themselves and only that.

Tomorrow would come.  It was coming closer with every breath they took.  But in that moment, they were united.  In that moment, they could never be separated, body or mind.

“I love you,” Shiro whispered, voice breaking.

Keith lifted his head, looking up at him.  Tears were streaming down his face.  He didn’t try to wipe them away.  He met Keith’s gaze, filled with so many different emotions.  He told him about one: “I love you, Keith.  I have for a long time now.  It’ll only ever be you.”

Keith pulled himself up so he could cup Shiro’s face tenderly between both of his hands.  He looked down into Shiro’s face with a soft smile.  His tears fell down onto Shiro’s cheeks.  “I love you, too, Shiro,” he whispered back.  “You’re everything to me.  If it was either the world or you, I’d choose you.  Every time.”

Shiro sniffled wetly, smiling his bright happy smile through his tears.  “Thank you, Keith,” he said, reaching up to pull Keith’s forehead to his.  “You’ve changed me too.  All for the better.”

Keith’s face was puffy and red.  His whole body was beyond tired and it called on him to sleep.  But they couldn’t.  As their eyelids betrayed them and drooped, they fought against it.  These were their moments and they wouldn’t give them up.

Shiro kept Keith in his arms as they laid there, looking up toward the sky, dawn approaching slowly across the horizon, a string of glowing gold.

“When I first saw you,” Shiro murmured, brushing his hands through Keith’s hair.  “I knew you were special.  It was like I could see the stars in your eyes.  It’s like you had a piece of the galaxy in your heart and every time I saw your face, I could see into its endless possibilities.  Every star I’ll see up there, I’ll think about you.  You remind me of them, stuck here, on earth.  But not for long.  We’ll fly together, Keith.  Maybe I haven’t had a dream about it or seen a vision of it, but I _know it_ in my heart.   I can feel it.  Like it’s what I was born to do - fly with you.”

Keith turned his head to look over at him.  The stars were starting to fade as morning approached them, that dusty orange crawling up the sky, softening the purples of night.  There was nothing Keith could do to stop it, so he didn’t try.  Instead, he cherished this moment, staring up at Shiro’s face, which reflected that gold around them.  He was a god.  He was beautiful.  He’d always be the most beautiful thing in the universe.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Keith whispered, brushing his thumb over Shiro’s mouth.  

“You’re not,” Shiro said, tilting his head so that he could look into Keith’s face.  He smiled.  “ _You’re not_.  I’ll be back before you know it.”  

Shiro shifted, reaching into his pocket.  “I have a gift for you.”  He brought it up to them, holding it out over them.  “Your knife.”

Keith reached his fingers up to touch the blade.  It’d been so long, it felt like reuniting with an old friend.  He remembered losing it, how awkward and unstable he’d felt for a long time, walking the halls with any kind of knife he could steal from the cafeteria, a cheap replacement for his real ally.  

He gently nudged it back toward Shiro.  “I want you to keep it.  To keep you safe.”

“I won’t need it.”

“Just...take it.”

“It belonged to your father, didn’t it?  That’s why you didn’t want to let it go.”

“Yeah...  My mother gave it to him before she left,”  Keith whispered.  “It’s my most valuable possession.  It’s looked after me all these years.  Now, I want it to look after you.  It’ll keep you safe.  Please, Shiro,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Shiro’s still holding the blade.  “Please take it.  For me.”  

Shiro watched Keith’s face and Keith looked back, letting him look, letting him see all that was in his heart.

“...Okay,” Shiro said finally, putting it back in his pocket.  “I’ll take care of it.  I’ll give it back when I return.”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, scooting himself closer to Shiro and pressing his face into his arm.

“Then...here.  I want you to have a part of me too.”  A small clink made Keith blink.

“...Your dog tags?”  Keith whispered, brain locked as he held his hand out for them, felt their cold weight drop into his hands.

“I trust you,” Shiro said, though he didn’t have to say it aloud.  Keith understood him more than he’d ever understood everyone.  

“Keep them safe for me.  I’m coming back for them.  And next time I see you, I’ll give you your knife back too.”

“You,” Keith said softly.  “That’s the first thing I’ll want.  You.”

Shiro smiled.  “Of course.  The very first thing.”

The sun rose and morning blotted out the last of the stars above.  They never showed Shiro a single thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4y33h81phKU) played in my head the entire dang time I wrote this. (ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣﹏ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣) Especially after 1:42. It reminds me so much of Sheith. Oh...my heart.
> 
> Chat with me on...nevermind... *slides to the ground and dies*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to @ff9zidane for betaing this final chapter! <3

“Today’s the big day,” Matt was practically vibrating with excitement as he hounded Shiro to get ready properly.  Shiro hadn’t packed like he should’ve and Keith knew it had been his fault. Shiro didn’t want to pack himself away in front of him.

Keith sat on the bed and tried to watch t.v. for the beginning of it.  He was so tired he could hardly think straight; he knew he had bags under his eyes and irritation set in his shoulders but he wanted to be with Shiro, no matter how painful, and began to help pack his things away with him.

“I got a few new soaps and toothpastes for when I’m gone,” Shiro said, opening the cabinet and showing Keith.  There were more than just a few; they were stacked high and would literally probably keep through the year. “Cinnamon and some mint in case you’re feeling it.  I don’t know how long they’ll last you, so I’ve given you access to my bank account too. I’ve already put the card in your wallet and notified Iverson.”

 _“What_ ?  Your _bank account_?  Shiro.”

“I want you to have access to it.  Promise me you’ll use it to buy yourself some lunch at the _least_.  It’ll make me feel better.  An apple doesn’t count as lunch.”

“Neither does macaroni and cheese,” Keith grunted.  “And I _have_ money.  I got in on a scholarship, remember?  And I have grants and some stuff saved up from some shitty job I had in high school.  I’m not going to need access to your _bank account_.  Jesus.”

“Well, if you need it, it’s there.  What’s mine is yours,” Shiro hummed.  “...I forgot to buy more of the razors you like...”

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith groaned.  “I’m fine. I survived living on my own for this long.  I can manage, okay?”

“I know. Of course you can, I just...  I guess I’m nervous. I want everything to be easy for you.”  He tapped his fingers to his mouth as he looked around the place anxiously.

“Buying razors and toiletries _is_ easy.”

Shiro heaved a sigh.  His face was neutral, but his eyes were wired as he cast about, thinking of all the things he wanted to say while he still had the time to say it.  It was draining away even now. “Eat properly,” Shiro pointed to his nose. “Give me an example of a full meal.”

“Quizzing me?”  Keith despaired.  “Not an apple.”

“Not an apple.”

“But _chocolate_.”

“Only for dessert.”

“Well, you let me have a cupcake for breakfast the other day.  Now I don’t know what to think.”

“That was a _special occasion_.”

Keith snorted, following Shiro out to the closet.  He started tossing clothes into his bag, grabbing and half-folding shirts and pants and jackets.  Keith sat on a chair and watched. He let himself pretend Shiro was just going to go on a vacation over the weekend.  Maybe going to the beach with Matt and Katie. Hanging out. Taking some pictures to send to Keith. Yeah... That would be a sad weekend alone, but at least it’d only be two days and not...not this.

When Shiro grabbed his vest, Keith moved without his permission.

“Oh,” slipped from Keith, making a small noise in the back of his throat.

Shiro turned.  “Hm?”

Keith forced his hand back to his side, trying not to look as embarrassed as he felt.  “...I like that one. It’s my favorite thing of yours.”

“You do?”  Shiro grabbed it between both of his hands and lifted it up to inspect quietly.  “Yeah. I like it too. I’ll leave it for you.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith said softly, reaching out to grab it from him.

Matt had been sitting on the couch typing away on his tablet.  He tore his attention from it, leaning over the back of the couch as he watched the two of them.  “Leaving clothes. It’s like you guys are married or something. It’s been weird watching you two.  From enemy to frenemy to friend to lover all in the span of a few months. I’m afraid to see where it’ll go next.  I can’t keep up.”

“Enemy?”  Shiro muttered, hardly paying attention.

“I thought Keith would literally actually kill you on at least five separate occasions.”

Keith made a small noise of agreement, bunching Shiro’s vest in his hands, clutching it close.  “Trust issues.”

“No kidding.”

Shiro sighed, dropping the last of his clothes into his suitcase, not even bothering to hide the tension and unhappiness in his posture.  “I thought your mom and Katie were visiting today.”

Matt watched him for a moment before sighing and standing.  “Yeah, yeah. I should probably go, you big grouch. You’re no good without sleep, did you know that?  You should take a nap before we leave. You _are_ the pilot.”

Shiro rolled his neck, rubbing at the tension there.  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Matt. I’m just...tense.”

“I get it.  I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure you were ready. But now that I see you waited until the literal last day, I’m a little worried...”

“I’m packing.  Don’t worry. See you at the launch.”

“See you.  And you, Keith.”

Keith heaved a sigh, watching him go.

If Shiro noticed his expression and the weariness dragging him down all day, he didn’t say anything.  They hadn’t gotten any sleep and it was starting to take its toll, but the fatigue they both felt was heavier than that.  

Keith watched mutely as Shiro packed his life away.  While Shiro moved, all Keith could think was _this is the last time Shiro will open this closet_ or _this is the last time Shiro will use that soap_.  It was like he was already a ghost, trailing through a room that was just emptiness, just memories.  It was fucking with Keith’s mind. He had gotten to the point where he was too weary to despair or regret.  He just wanted to choke and die.

“I’m going to go out for a bit,” Keith said, rubbing at his face, trying to get rid of such thoughts.  

Shiro stopped what he was doing and straightened, questions on his lips as he scoped out the emotion on Keith’s face.  He closed his mouth, pressed his lips together thoughtfully, then asked, “I can go with you, if you’d like?”

“Nah, you’re busy packing.  I won’t be long.”

He hesitated.  “...Okay... See you in a bit then.”

“Okay.”

Keith turned and walked a few steps.  He was almost at the door when Shiro stammered quickly, “W-wait.  Keith.”

Shiro hopped over the bed and caught Keith gently by the wrist, tugging him to his chest.  Keith hit him with a small “oof!” eyes going wide. But Shiro was there, capturing Keith in a kiss, breathing him in sharply.  He was pulling him up so frantically that Keith had to scramble onto the tips of his toes, palms pressed to Shiro’s chest. Shiro had him - hands running up his back and grabbing onto his arms.

Keith made a small muffled noise into his mouth.  There was so much desperation in Shiro’s hands as they grabbed at him that it almost hurt.  It was like he was trying to take Keith into himself. Trying to keep him.

In the next breath, he let Keith go, setting him back to the floor.  It was there that Keith saw it: something sharp and vulnerable in his eyes.  Like broken glass. Desperate. A little wild. It made Keith grit his teeth harshly and press his lips together in order to bear it.

As they returned to their normal breath, Keith reached up to touch Shiro’s face.  “...I’m not leaving, Shiro. I’ll be right back.”

“I - I know, I just...”  He took a step back, bringing his hands to himself, shuffling them through his hair.  He managed a small nervous laugh as he tried to sort out the worry from his face. “Do I need a reason to kiss my boyfriend?”

Keith softened.  “No. You don’t.”  He whispered the words, raising himself up on the tips of his toes again to kiss Shiro on the cheek.  He tilted his head to kiss the other side. “...I love you, Shiro. Don’t worry. I just need a moment.  I’m just...overwhelmed. I’m going to go for a walk and I’ll come right back. Is that alright? Or do you need me to stay?”

Shiro nodded, running his nose against the side of Keith’s head, pressing a kiss to his ear.  “Of course it’s fine. The launch is at four... I’ll see you then.”

“I promise I’ll be there.  I’ll be back before then, though.  I just need a moment.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispered, eyes a little lost as he watched Keith go, his grip sliding from Keith’s fingers as he slipped away.  He looked so small and alone as Keith walked out, door sliding shut behind him.

Keith hadn’t planned on leaving Shiro’s side that day, but he couldn’t stand to watch it anymore, had to get out.  Had to run, if only just for a moment to put his head back on straight.

Besides, he wanted to do something nice for Shiro, just as he’d done for him at every turn.  It was a small thing, but Keith thought it’d be a good idea to get Shiro his favorite cake at the bakery he liked so much.  A small gesture. It was better than nothing.

Shiro had convinced Iverson it would be good for Keith to use his speeder when he was away, to keep the thing running properly.  It helped that Shiro was Shiro and Keith was Keith. Keith had a new set of keys. He jumped on, ignoring the protest in his gut and hand, and rode to town.  There were bigger problems than physical wounds. Those would heal, at least.

It was quiet and lonely.  He had never ridden out by himself; he had always had Shiro attached to his back or the sturdy feeling of Shiro driving in front of him, so warm in Keith’s arms.

It was cold without him.

Keith pulled into a parking spot and got off his bike.  Even the streets here were lonely during the day. He’d always gone after school, when other cadets had down time as well, but since he was still recuperating, he was the only one out.  The parking spots were open and the sidewalks were deserted. It was an odd sight that made his stomach uneasy and sad. The laughter and easy chatter was replaced with emptiness. It was like an omen.  He tried to shrug it away.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk and made his way to the bakery, someone opened a door right in front of him, jerking him out of his thoughts as he quickly side-stepped.  Keith looked up to see Anthony.

They locked eyes.

Today was his last day before he had to leave.  But it didn’t mean he still couldn’t fuck things up worse.

For two awful seconds, rage rose up in Anthony at the sight of Keith, making his face red and his fists clench so hard they shook.  Keith thought he wouldn’t be able to control himself and he tensed, ready for...he didn’t know what he’d do. But, just as quickly as he had angered, Anthony snapped his head to the side and stalked away, footsteps clacking loudly through the streets.

Amazing.  Maybe people did change.

Keith sighed, wandering into the bakery, feeling lost again.  Shiro was the one who was good at this stuff - getting gifts, surprising people.  Keith dug deep into his mind, trying to remember what flavor Shiro liked best and he found, sickened with himself, that he couldn’t recall.  

He sighed, staring woefully at all the different kinds of cakes and goods in the display case.  There were way too many. He thought back to their cafe adventure, but all he could remember was eating way too much and feeling sick and full like he had never felt before.

The person at the register waited patiently as he pressed his palms together and breathed into them.

“Can’t decide?”  She asked kindly.

He let out a huge sigh.  “I’m getting a cake to surprise my boyfriend but I don’t know which one is his favorite.”

“Hmm, the ones on the tops are the bestsellers.”  She said, gesturing over to another display case.

They all looked nice.  He bit his lip.

“Does he like chocolate?”  She asked. “Vanilla? Strawberries?”

“Um.”  He scratched at his head again.  “He likes...cheese...?” He wrinkled his nose, thinking of Shiro’s affinity for macaroni and cheese.

“Cheesecake then?”

God, that was hardly the same thing though, was it?

She was leaning over the counter, smiling.  “I guarantee that our cheesecakes are the best you’ll find in this whole city.”

“That’s fine,” Keith said, already digging out his wallet.  He frowned as he saw the addition of Shiro’s bank card. He took it out and slipped it behind his ID so he wouldn’t accidentally grab it and use it.

“Great!  He’s going to love it.”  She disappeared behind the counter.  “Want me to personalize it? I can write on the top.”

“Oh, uh...  ‘Congratulations, Shiro’?”

“Shiro?  As in ‘Shirogane’? _He’s_ your boyfriend?”  She smiled. “Wow, you’re a lucky man.  You have no idea how many people have come here buying something for him over the years.  Valentine’s Day is a fiasco, let me tell you.”

He forced out a laugh.  He wanted to hurry. He felt time trickling steadily by.  Each second here was a second wasted without Shiro. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“That’s sweet.  He’s lucky too, you getting him a cake.  I’ll pack it up for you then.”

He waited antsily for a few moments, bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers to his arm.  When that didn’t help, he turned to look out the window seeking a distraction. It felt like she was taking forever, but it probably had only been like thirty seconds.

Anthony was not what he wanted to see outside the window, but he was right there anyway, frowning into the middle of the road, focused on something.  He cast his gaze around himself, as if he were about to do something incredibly shady. When everything checked out okay, he walked forward into the middle of the street and knelt, opening his arms.

Keith walked to the door, watching with surprise.  It was a kitten in the road, so small it struggled to walk.  Anthony was trying to coax it out of the road. His eyes actually looked soft as he held his hands out to it, palms open.  “Come here,” Keith could hear him murmuring through the door. “You’ll get injured out here like this. Where did you even come from, hm?”

 _I believe in the good in people_ , Shiro always said.  Shiro had believed in Keith when all Keith had done was push him away and yell at him, beating his fellow cadets into a mess of blood in the hallways, carrying a knife around school like a hoodlum.  Shiro hadn’t known him then; Keith could’ve been some random psycho for all he had known, but Shiro had given him so many chances, had believed in him when he had no reason to. He had seen the hurt that was plaguing Keith and coaxed him from that dark pit, offering him a second chance, a third, a fourth...

Keith wanted to be that good too.  He wanted to believe that there was good in Anthony, even as he felt the twinge in the wound still healing on his stomach and the bruises on his face, yellowing.

As he thought about it, he realized he did not feel anger.  Not about Anthony, not about any of the trouble he’d gone through because of Anthony’s bitter jealousy, twisting him up in knots and choking him until he felt he had no other options but to hurt.  Pity. That’s what he felt. Pity for what had lead Anthony to that point. Understanding. Sympathy.

Surprise flooded Keith.  He smiled minutely as he realized the depths in which Shiro had touched his heart, changing him more than he had even known.  Shiro was so good that he passed it on to Keith too. And if that wasn’t a gift, Keith didn’t know what was.

Anthony was trying to _save_ another living creature.

Inherently good..  Maybe Shiro hadn’t been as naive and gullible as Keith had always thought.  Maybe Anthony did have some goodness, deep down inside, and here was the sprout popping its head from the dirt.  If it was nurtured, what could it grow into?

Or maybe Keith was just feeling a little emotional that day.  He was tired and vulnerable, after all. He chuckled softly, rubbing at his face.  He had to get back to Shiro.

“Sir, your cake’s ready.”

“Thank you,” he said, turning back to collect it.  Even thank yous were easy to say now...

He paid for it with his own card and walked outside, heading for Shiro’s speeder.  The arcade was across the way. It was closed at such a time, but Keith still stood for a moment, watching it.

He probably wouldn’t be going again.  What would be the point without Shiro or Matt?  But Shiro had been right. It wasn’t just the moments that he won that he remembered fondly, it was being with his friends.  It was just hanging out together and laughing, watching Shiro fail spectacularly, seeing the laughter bright in his eyes as Keith made the same mistake over and over, or the excitement and cheering when he didn’t.

He would miss it.  He would miss everything.

Keith stood there for a few moments more before his watch went off.  It was Shiro, asking how things were going. He couldn’t very well respond with his hands full of cake, so he turned to move the box onto the speeder when, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a car speeding through.

He turned to the road.  Anthony was still there, kneeling, attention down on the kitten in his hands as he pet it gently.  He did not look up.

It wasn’t a busy time of day, the cadets were still at the Garrison in the afternoon and no one expected these empty streets to be occupied.  Keith could see, horror in his heart, as the driver of the vehicle looked toward the shops, distracted, totally ignoring the road. He wasn’t paying attention.  He was going to hit Anthony and the cat. He would kill them.

Keith just reacted.  If he had time to think about it, he still couldn’t be sure what he would’ve done.  But there was no time. In the moment he was given, with only a split second to react, his body decided for him.

He tossed the cake away, leapt over the railing that separated them, and ran straight for Anthony.

He darted out in front of the car and he pushed Anthony out of the way.

He saw Anthony’s face, wide-eyed with surprise...and then Keith felt as his own head struck the ground.

He didn’t regret it, even as his vision cut to black.  Shiro would’ve done the same.

 

Keith woke up to a splitting headache and an ocean of dizziness.

The afternoon was turning to evening, the sky lighting up with a deep orange.  

He was laying at the end of the sidewalk, out of the way of the road.  Someone must’ve dragged him over.

Keith pushed himself up and cringed as blood rushed to his head, pushing at the boundaries of his skull, making him feel like it might burst.

He rode it out, breathing through it until it faded and he could see through the pain.

He startled as someone sniffed beside him.  It was Anthony, staring off into the distance, hand running automatically through the hair of the cat nestled on his lap.

Anthony looked over, his eyes cool and distant, but somber too.

“So.  You’re not dead.”

“Are you alright?”  Keith asked, groaning softly as his head protested at the movement.

He just looked down at Keith from the tip of his nose, trying to hang onto his contempt.

Keith felt strange, like he was missing a part of himself.  He looked left and right, his eyes seeking. There was Shiro’s bike, parked where he had left it...  And the cake place. His head was foggy and jumbled. He was missing something. Something important.

“You have everything so effortlessly,” Anthony said lowly.  He looked down at the kitten in his hands, still brushing it gently.  “Talent. Intelligence. Shiro’s attention. And now, this. _Saving people_.  Everything just comes together for you...doesn’t it?”

Keith held his head in his hand, trying to center himself.  He was too dizzy to sit properly, let alone stand. What was he missing?  It felt like a vital part of himself, like he’d left his heart behind. Keith shook his head and muttered lowly, “Everyone has their own battles.  A few months ago, I had nothing.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking off toward the sunset.  “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I won’t ever be able to forgive you. You ruined my life.”

Keith heaved a weary sigh.  “...We could’ve been friends.”

“...Ha,” Anthony shook his head as he bit his lip.  “I doubt that.”

“I thought that about Shiro too, at first.”

“...I’ll never understand you, Kogane,” Anthony muttered, looking over at him through narrowed eyes.  As he stared, something changed. “But here.” He scooted a box over to Keith. “Your other one was ruined.  I don’t want to have to owe you anything.”

“Shiro’s cake,” Keith said, looking down at it in surprise.  It was bigger and fancier than the last, lined with edible gold leaf and flowers made of soft fondant.  “Anthony... Thank -”

“Don’t,” Anthony said sharply, holding up a hand to stop him.  He shot Keith an incredulous look. “Don’t even try. We’ll never be friends. _I tried to kill you_.  Do you not get that?”

“I know.”

He stared at Keith, eyes boring into him.  The stubborn facade was crumbling and there was something there, beneath, something vulnerable at his core.  He grit his teeth and whispered, voice raw. “And then you saved my life...”

“...I know.”

Anthony took in a deep long breath, brow furrowing in confusion and hurt.  He closed his eyes tightly, lifting his hands, grasping for words he couldn’t speak.  “I don’t - I just - You’re _so_ -”  He swallowed hard and hung his head.  “Go. You make me sick. ...You two deserve each other.  Like, actually really deserve each other. No one else could possibly understand either of you.  You’re both ridiculous.”

Keith let out a weary laugh.  

He sighed heavily.  “I mean it. ...Don’t you have someplace to be?”

Keith frowned.  Did he? His head was still all foggy.  He opened his mouth to ask when his watch chimed.

He looked down and saw, with a horrible jolt that made him sway, that he had almost thirty unread messages.

He remembered what he’d forgotten like a smack to the face.

Shiro.  He had forgotten about Shiro.

It was almost seven o’clock.  The launch had been at four.

“Oh, god,” he breathed.  “Oh, no. _Shiro._ ”  He pushed himself up, running to the bike.  He cringed against the black that threatened the edges of his vision and sent him stumbling to the floor.  He pushed through it.

“Kogane!”  Anthony called.  “...I didn’t see it launch.”

“What?”  Keith breathed, turning to see, but in his panic, the colors were all blending and weaving together.  He blinked his eyes hard and tried to center himself. He was already scrambling with his watch to try to get into contact with Shiro.  It was probably already too late. Keith might’ve lost out on the only time he had left with Shiro. Now, he’d be gone forever.

There was no answer.  His call just went through.

“Oh, god, Shiro,” he cried, tears already falling from his eyes.  “No, Shiro. No, _no.”_

“A ship that size you would see leaving.  There was nothing.”

“He’s not _answering_.”

Anthony sighed, getting to his feet.  “God... I tried calling him from my tablet before the launch earlier to come pick you up but he didn’t answer then either.  If there’s one thing I know it’s that he wouldn’t leave without you... He’s probably scouring the place for you now. You guys are like...a unit.  He hasn’t left. Go find him.”

Keith looked up, brain locking, and then he smiled faintly.  “Thank you,” Keith said again anyway because he meant it.

“I told you not to thank me...” Anthony said lowly, frown still on his face, but it softened as he looked down at the furball in his hands.

Keith hopped on the bike, running through his messages as he blasted through town and into the desert toward the Garrison.  He wiped roughly at his face, trying to brush away the tears but they kept coming back anew. He’d failed Shiro even worse than he thought he could.  He didn’t even say goodbye.

The first message was from Shiro, his voice slightly concerned.  “Keith? Launch still isn’t for another few hours, but you’re not answering my texts so I was just...  I want to see you. So if you can, please come back before I leave.” His voice softened to a whisper. “...Please.  I don’t want to leave without seeing you.”

The next few were texts from Shiro.  They were short and lacked his usual easy warmth.  They seemed forced and stiff with worry. He mentioned how nice the weather was and how it was perfect for a launch.  Or how the same stars that Keith would be seeing tonight, Shiro would be running through too.

There was another message, but instead of hearing Shiro’s voice, it was Matt’s.

“Keith?”  It said. He sounded out of breath, like he was racing through the hallways, feet clacking against the floor quickly.  “Hey. Neither are you are answering... What a time to disappear... Where the hell are you? If you two are having some romantic goodbye or something, well, cut it out because Shiro was supposed to be here like _a half hour ago_ .  Iverson’s pissed.   _Where are you_ ?   _Call me_.”

Keith cancelled out of the messages before the rest could play - he saw Matt’s name attached to each of them.  He called him back.

Matt picked up immediately.  “Keith? Keith, _where are you_?  Shiro’s gone.”

“ _What_?  What do you mean ‘gone’?”  Keith said, out of breath as he pulled the bike into the hangar, wheels screeching around the corner.

“I mean we were all at the launch site and he never showed up.  No one can get ahold of him. Where are you?”

“You didn’t leave...”  Keith breathed. He shook his head, trying to process everything.  He couldn’t remember how to breathe. “You didn't go to Kerberos yet...”. He shook himself.  “I got caught up... I’m on my way now.”

Keith parked the bike and ran the entire way to Shiro’s room, slipping past people in his way, desperate to get there.  

He pushed his way into Shiro’s room before the door had even fully opened.  

Shiro wasn’t there.  His suitcase was fully packed and set at the ready beside the couch.  His outfit was laid out over the armrest. His new shoes were on the floor beneath.  Keith walked quickly through the room, pushing the bathroom door open, but Shiro wasn’t there either.

Shiro had cleaned everything.  Organized the brushes on the counter.  Traded out the old towels for new ones.  In the room, he had set the vest that he was going to leave Keith on the dresser.  The only thing he hadn’t done was make the bed, which was pulled tight on Keith’s side but left a mess on Shiro’s.

“Shiro...”  He breathed.  He moved his hand toward the watch on his hand and called Shiro again.  “Pick up,” he bounced on his heels. “Come on, Shiro.”

Music filled the air with Shiro’s ringtone and Keith cursed, following the sound to the side of Shiro’s bed.  There it was - his watch kicked beneath the nightstand.

Keith knelt to pick it up, holding it gently in his hands.  There was small crack clean across the screen that Keith knew wasn’t there earlier.  He ran his fingers along the edges and found a new dent in one corner. Shiro must’ve dropped it.  

Keith shoved it into his pocket and rushed out of there, on a mission to check his room.  Maybe Shiro had sought him out.

But it was just Lance, a bowl of popcorn on his lap.  Hunk was tilting his head back and laughing, opening his mouth as Lance tried unsuccessfully to toss popcorn in.

“Heya,” they grinned as they saw him.  “Want to join us?”

“Did Shiro stop by?”  Keith asked abruptly, his tone winded.  

Their eyes widened as they took the sight of him in, felt the vibe pouring off him.

“No?”  Lance blinked at him.  “You okay?”

Hunk said, “Wasn’t the launch supposed to be a few hours ago?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith breathed, turning on his heel and running.

Where?  Where would Shiro run to?  Keith had never really thought about it; Shiro didn’t seem like the type to run.

He checked the sim, but Shiro wasn’t there.

He ran past the teacher’s lounge, but only found it empty.

He went to the library, but it was closed.

He almost went to Iverson’s just to see, to check, but he felt as if Iverson would want an explanation before anything else and Keith had none to give.

His head was pounding.  He could feel the spot he had hit against the cement, a mound on his head now, tender even without touch.  It impaired his focus. He slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway, pressing his hands into his face.  He groaned softly. Breathed.

Maybe the rooftop.

He didn’t have the key or a knife, so he opted for kicking it down.  He grit in pain as he did it, clutching his hand to his stomach tightly as he walked up the stairs and looked over the roof, frantic.

He had hoped.  He really had, but it was empty, just as lonely as the desert ahead.  The sky was changing over to night. No one was there.

“Shiro,” he whispered, racking his brain.  “ _Shiro_.”

Keith had failed him.  Something had happened and he hadn’t been there.

When his phone rang again, he picked it up before the first ring could complete.

“Shiro?”

But no, of course, not.  He still had Shiro’s watch in his pocket.

“It’s me,” Matt said.  “Anything?”

He took a deep breath, pressing his hand to his forehead.  “No. I’ve checked everywhere I can think of. I found his watch under his nightstand though.  It looks like he dropped it and just left. There’s a crack through the front.”

Matt’s voice sharpened in baffled uncertainty, “What do you think it means?”

Keith thought of his father’s promise, of the dreams that came to him from the sky, and he allowed himself to wonder.

He bit his lip.  “I have his bike.  He can’t have gotten far.”

“He’s in such deep shit.  I’ve never seen Iverson go off on a tirade like he did.  This is all he’s worked for, why would he just leave?”

Keith knew what would happen.  Everything was over for Shiro. For him to drop everything and choose that...  “All of his stuff is still here.”

“He wouldn’t just walk off without you...  I don’t understand. We checked _everywhere_.  Iverson’s scouring the entire Garrison but no one can pinpoint him.  If he wasn’t in town with you, where else would he be?”

“Where else _is there_?”

“If anyone would know, Keith, it would be you.”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Keith grit out, but he trailed off as his eyes caught a glimpse of a shooting star.  He turned his face toward the sky and felt it. Felt all the stars in the sky as they shone down on him.  They were warm. There were messages in their light. He thought of his father, promising Keith. He thought of Shiro, saying he wished he could see.

He remembered his own voice as he looked over at Shiro on the day of his birthday, warm and content, in their shack that they had found: _I’d run here.  If there’s nowhere for me to go.  I’ll come here._

And Shiro, grin broadening: _And I’d come find you_ .   _Every time_.

Only, it was Shiro running, not Keith.

Keith murmured,  “...Maybe I do know.  I’ll message you soon.”

“Please do.  I’m worried.”

Keith clicked out and started running again, back to the hangar, hanging onto his stomach and grimacing.  Not five minutes later, he was speeding through sand again, racing beneath the stars.

Animals were spooked out of the way; the light blaring from the front lit up the desert like a flamethrower.  Keith had no mercy on the gas pedal as he zipped along through dirt and sand.

The moon followed him on his journey, rushing him along.  The stars fell from the sky one by one in the distance, leading the way.

He made it to their shack in record time.

It was there that Keith saw him, a small silhouette in the distance sitting against the backdrop of a starry night.  Those globs of stars nestled against the purples and greens of the universe. And Shiro. He was sitting on the fallen telephone pole staring into the sky, back lit up from the warm glowing light of their shack.  He was so small in the distance. So lonely.

Keith slowed his bike, tossing his legs over the side and catapulting himself off.  “Shiro!” He called, voice as unsteady as the beating of his heart.

Shiro turned to him, offering him a small smile.  “...Keith. I was waiting for you. There are a lot of falling stars tonight,” he said.

Keith ran to him, skidding to a halt as he grabbed Shiro’s hands.  They were as cold as ice. He rubbed at them, sliding up the fingers and over the knuckles, trying to get some friction.  He stared into Shiro’s face, seeking answers, and he just stared back looking tired and somber. Keith breathed hurriedly, “Are you okay?  You’re freezing. You didn’t even bring a jacket. What are you doing out here?”

Shiro swallowed hard, turning his gaze from Keith’s.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Jesus, Shiro,” Keith breathed.  He shrugged out of his own jacket.  It was too small for Shiro to fit into, but he shook it out and set it over his shoulders, tying the arms into a knot over Shiro’s chest.  “Are you alright...?”

“I’m fine.  Are you okay?  You’re walking funny.”  His hand reached out, feeling Keith’s center tenderly.

“Don’t worry about me.  What are _you_ doing out here?”

Shiro looked up into Keith’s face, scoping out the truth.  When he was satisfied, he opened his arm, nodding Keith to sit beside him.

Keith climbed onto the downed telephone pole beside him, snuggling into Shiro’s side.  He let out a pent up breath as he grabbed Shiro’s hand from his lap again and rubbed it between both of his.  They were so cold; he kneaded them gently. “God, Shiro...”

The stars were even more impressive all the way out here, so remotely alone that there wasn’t even the annoying buzz of electricity or the random cough of a bystander.  It was just them. Them and the wide open sky. It felt like if they were to let go of each other they’d fall right into the puddle of stars.

“I stole a bike,” Shiro said.

“So you did.”

“I’ve never stolen before.”  He sounded a bit breathless. “Have you?”

“Yeah...” Keith hummed.

Shiro let out a breathy laugh.

“...I’m sorry I was late.”  Keith murmured, looking up at Shiro’s face.  “You wouldn’t believe it, but I drove to the bakery and Anthony was there.”

“Oh, no,” Shiro said lowly, turning to look at Keith.  “He didn’t -”

“You know what?  He was okay. He almost got hit by a car though.  He was trying to save a cat from the middle of the road and wasn’t paying attention; the driver wasn’t either.  ...So... I had to push him out of the way. I hit my head on the landing and passed out for a bit. I didn’t mean to waste so much time.  I’m sorry. I came as soon as I could.”

Shiro’s mouth was parted in worry as he cupped Keith’s face in between his large warm hands, inspecting his face carefully.  Gingerly, he felt around his head until he came upon the bump. “ _Oh, Keith..._  Are you alright?  Do we need to go to the medic?”

Keith looked back.  He could literally see the stars in the reflection of Shiro’s eyes.  Big pools of worry and love. He was so beautiful. Keith smiled softly, grabbing onto Shiro’s wrist and leaning into the palm of his hand, whispering, “I’m good.  Better than good. Shiro, you won’t believe this: Anthony actually thanked me. Well,” Keith laughed softly, “In his own way. I went into town to get you a cake, but when I pushed him out of the way, I dropped it.  He paid for another one and it’s bigger and better and he basically blessed our relationship. I couldn’t believe it.” Keith reached behind him to pull his bag onto his lap. He reached in and took out the box. “Oh...  I might’ve sat on it.”

Shiro let out a breathy laugh, carefully taking it from his hands as Keith passed it over.  He pulled the top lid off. “ _Oh_ , cheesecake.”  His eyes fell upon the message on top and he smiled softly, “Thank you, Keith.”

“I just thought...you know, your whole love for cheese and all.”  Keith grimaced. “I guessed. ...You’re so good at this sort of thing and you remembered my favorites and everything and I tried to, but I couldn’t remember.  I swear I’ll get better. I’m working on it. I want to be better.”

Shiro smiled softly.  “You’re a natural. Cheesecake is my favorite.”

“You’re just saying that,” Keith murmured, rocking into Shiro, bumping his head against his chin.

Shiro scooted him in closer.  “I’m not. Thank you, Keith. I haven’t had any in ages.  I’ve been wanting to get you to try some.”

But they didn’t take the cake out.  Shiro just stared down at it, smile stuck on his face, his mind miles away.

Keith took in a deep breath.  He grabbed the cake from Shiro’s hands and set it aside.  He murmured lowly, looking down at the sand beneath their feet, “I was terrified earlier...  I was out for a few hours and when I woke up, the sun was setting. It was way past four. ...I thought I’d missed you.  I thought I’d never see you again. I...” He let out a soft breath, hands curling around Shiro’s. “...Shiro, why are you here?”  

Shiro frowned out into the wide expanse of the desert, confusion on his brow.  “I saw it,” Shiro said. He stayed there, staring ahead, unable to look over. He breathed unsteadily, reaching out for Keith, pulling him onto his lap and clinging to him tightly.  He shoved his face into Keith’s hair as he spoke quietly, voice tight with distress, “I saw everything. It was everything you’d ever said: the stars falling, the world crumbling. I saw everything that would come within the next year...  Everything just fell apart. It was horrible, Keith. It was so horrible. I’m sorry for ever doubting you. I didn’t _know_.”

Keith turned in his embrace, sneaking his arms around the back of his neck and nestling his fingers into Shiro’s hair gently.  “ _Shiro_.”  He held him for a long while, rocking him gently.  

“After you left this afternoon, I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I tried to get a bit of sleep.  I...I guess that must’ve triggered it. All that waiting last night... I understand now,” he whispered in Keith’s arms.  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.  I hardly believed me either.”

“But _I_ should’ve believed in you.  You saw this sort of thing and I didn’t support you.”

“Shh,” Keith placed a finger on his lips.  “Yes, you did. You helped me more than you know...”  He placed his hand over Shiro’s right arm, where he had seen, so many times, the flesh being torn apart.  “So you know about your arm. About how they forced you to fight.”

“No.”  Shiro shook his head, pulling back slightly so he could get a better look at Keith.  “I saw you.”

“Me?”  Keith whispered, looking up into Shiro’s eyes, confused.

“Yes.  You, after Matt and I leave, alone.  You, crying yourself to sleep every night.  You, slowly losing the will to live. I watched as you saw the announcement of my death.  Keith... I saw your face. The look on your face... _Keith._ ”  He shook his head softly, pressing his face into Keith’s chest.  He mumbled into it, “You went straight to Iverson demanding answers, but all he could do was apologize.  He had no answers to give. And when he said it was due to my error, you just lost it.” He closed his eyes.  “You were so upset... You took out a knife. And you used it.”

Keith listened, body completely still.  “Shiro... I’m so sorry...”

Shiro shook his head.  “You were in so much pain... You were sobbing and screaming as they dragged you out.  Iverson didn’t press charges, but you were expelled. And you ran, and you ran, and...  I thought I knew what pain was, but I’ve been such a fool... I couldn’t stand the sight of you like that...  I...” He cleared his throat roughly. “By dying, I kill you too...”

“Shiro...”

“After my death, you’d write notes to me and pin them to the wall...  You wore my dog tags with you wherever you went. You’d- You’d hold onto my vest at night and...”  Shiro rubbed the tears from his eyes but they kept coming, so he just hung his head and let them fall.  “I’m not going.”

Keith took in a deep breath.  Heard the determination and stubbornness in Shiro’s voice.  “...To Kerberos...?”

“To Kerberos,” Shiro confirmed, pulling his face from Keith’s warmth.  He looked up into Keith’s eyes, so much strife and apology there.

Keith was frozen in shock.  “But...but you _wanted_ this.  This is your dream...  You... You didn’t want to be stuck here on Earth.”

“I used to think that.  I used to believe I’d find happiness up in the stars and that nothing else could possibly interest me enough down here to keep me rooted.  ...And then I met you.” He reached his hand out, gently touching Keith’s face. “You’re the one person in a sea of so many others who lights up my life.  Your cunning, your hesitancies, your stubbornness, the way you hate so fiercely, but love even fiercer... You’re everything to me. I can be myself around you.  I’ve never had that before. If staying here means one less tear, one less night alone, one less grievance for you...I’d take the world’s worst job for the rest of my life to make it so.  I’ll trade in everything to be with you. Even space. I really mean that...”

Keith blinked, feeling faint.  He stared into Shiro’s face, trying to comprehend everything he’d just said.  Keith had spent so long being driven by the need to convince him to stay, that now that he was, it seemed fake.  “But...”

Shiro flashed him a weak smile.  “There is something I want to talk to you about though.  If I do this, if I stay, Iverson said he’d kick you out too.  He said he’d put us on a list and make sure neither of us would ever get the chance to fly again.  ...Keith, you’re brilliant. For you to not fly would be the greatest wrong. If you want me to, I will go back to Iverson right now and beg him for this job back...  You shouldn’t be tied up in my decisions.”

Keith let out an incredulous laugh.  “Uh... So...send _you_ away so I can _fly_?”

“Not just fly, but pilot to other worlds literally.  Realize your full potential. You were born for this.  To clip your wings, I -”

“- Shiro...”  Keith whispered, gathering Shiro’s face between his hands.  He looked directly into his eyes, hesitantly allowing himself to grin as he took in Shiro’s cheeks, pressed in slightly beneath his fingers.  The universe was there across his face. It was everything Keith wanted to see in his life written on the soft fluttering of Shiro’s eyelashes, the full thick eyebrows, the silver moonlit irises, even there on the fullness of his lips, parted as he stared at Keith with all of his attention.  Keith smiled down at him, kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for my entire life. _I love you_.  I love you more than the earth, more than the stars, more than the galaxies combined.  I don’t care if I never leave Earth. We can stay in this same damn city and I’d choose it every time.  I want to be with you. That’s my one wish. I want you safe. I want you alive. I want us to be together for as long as you want me...”

“Always, Keith,” Shiro whispered.  “I’ll want you always... But... Keith.  I have nothing to offer you... Nothing. Without my piloting, I’m just...”  He took a deep breath and chuckled, but his eyes were dark and dismal. “I can’t even cook.”

“Hey.  Look at me.”  Keith said, grabbing Shiro’s jaw and angling it toward him.  “Nothing to offer me? You’ve already given me everything. When I first came to the Garrison, I had no idea how lonely I actually was.  But I’m different now. You’ve changed me. The _world’s_ different now because of you...and only you.  If I’d never met you, I’d still be living in that darkness, hating the world, hating the people in it, not caring what happens to anyone else or bothering to try to understand.  I...” Keith bit back a laugh, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I think I actually did something good today. I saved an enemy. We spoke. I...I tried something new.”

“You did, Keith.  It’s amazing what you did.  You’re so brave. You’re so good.  That was all you.”

“No.  That was you and me together.  I know if I’d never met you, I would’ve pushed Anthony until he broke.  But maybe now...maybe he can try to see the world a little differently too?”

Shiro looked at Keith.  Really looked at him. Took in the bad and the good and loved it all equally.  He nodded softly. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

Keith laughed, voice breaking as he cried, his heart bursting.  “Thank you, Shiro. Thank you for everything.”

Shiro took in a deep steadying breath, closing his eyes and letting himself take in the moment.  The smile that grew on his face was genuine and happy. The tension melted away, the worry. He just let it all go as he sat there, Keith in his arms, still sniffling.  He looked at peace.

Keith said softly.  “I think, all along, I came to the Garrison looking for a home.  And I’ve found it...in you.”

Shiro blinked at the tears budding in his eyes.  Tenderly, he reached up and weaved Keith’s hair behind his ear.  “Me too,” Shiro whispered. “I’ve chased the sky for so long, only to find, when it’s right at my feet, that I’ve never needed it.  I only ever wanted you.”

“You have me,” Keith whispered, holding the back of Shiro’s head with his hands.  “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours...”  He held Keith as if he were something more precious than the entire universe combined, wrapping his arms around him securely, leaning his face into Keith’s hair.  Keith could feel his warm breath against his neck and he closed his eyes, feeling so protected and warm. Shiro said softly, “Let’s just stay here, okay?”

Keith nodded gently against him, breathing him in.  “Yeah. You and me. That’s all that I want. I don’t need anything else.”

He felt so light, lighter than he had ever known.  If he weren’t holding onto Shiro, he’d float through the clouds in the sky and become a star, content and filled with joy his whole life.  They had just given up everything, their whole future plans going up in smoke, and they were crying in happiness.

“Stay,” Keith said through his tears.  “Here on Earth, with me. There will be other opportunities.  You’ll see. You’re so amazing, how could there not be?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Shiro said, fire sparking in his eyes.  “With the two of us together? What can’t we accomplish?”

“We don’t need the Garrison.  We’ll have each other.”

“We can get a dog.  A tortoise.”

“We can grow a garden.”

“I can write a book about rocks.”

Keith laughed, rubbing at the tears blurring his vision.  “I can make my own speeder from the scraps of old ones out in the desert.  Make a _super one._ ”

“We can hunt for alien life.”

Keith tossed his head back and laughed.  “Here?”

“Yeah, why not?  You’re mysteriously good at everything; maybe you’ve been the alien all along, trying to throw me off your scent.”

“What!  I’d never do that.”  Keith chuckled, pressing his laughter into Shiro’s shoulder.  He let out a shaky breath as everything began to settle in his mind.  “ _You’re staying_ ,” he breathed.  “I can’t believe it...  I’m so happy...” He crawled up Shiro, wrapping his arms around every inch of him, squeezing him tightly

Shiro chuckled beneath Keith’s hold.  He was completely gone underneath the Keith leech.  He carefully tapped Keith’s arm. “Keith, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” Keith laughed, taking a step off of him, but keeping his hands on his shoulders as he stared into Shiro’s face.  “...You’re staying.”

Shiro reached up for both of Keith’s hands and held them there, smiling up at Keith’s glowing face.  “I’m staying.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Keith smiled, blinking away a new wave of tears.  “You’re not going to get hurt.”

“You too,” Shiro whispered.

Keith let out a clipped soft breath, tossing himself at Shiro again, laughing as Shiro caught him and stood, swinging them around.  “ _Thank you_.  I can’t believe it...”  Keith breathed as Shiro set his feet back to the floor.  “...Everything will be alright...”

“It’s you and me from now on.  I won’t leave you. I won’t leave...  I’m staying right here.”

The stars were their audience and both Keith and Shiro could feel each one all around them, as if the brilliance of their light was on purpose, each star sending out their approval and joy solely for them.  A gift. A blessing.

Shiro gathered both of Keith’s hands in his, holding one out at their sides and placing the other on his shoulder.  He snuck a hand around Keith’s waist and began to hum, smile on his lips, as he closed his eyes and rocked them back and forth to the gentle music.  Dancing beneath the stars. Back and forth, a soft gentle rhythm undisturbed by strife or hardship. Just them and their happiness nestled close.

Keith laughed, tilting his head back in unadulterated joy, peering up at the sky.

“Wow,” he whispered, taking it all in.  “So many stars.”

“Yes,” Shiro said, warm gaze only on Keith.  “And you’re beautiful.”

Keith smiled, pressing his eyes closed.  “He did it.” Tears poured from them anyway as he laughed.  “...He kept his promise. My father. He showed you. I’ve been so angry for so long I almost didn’t believe him.  Last night, on the rooftop, I thought he’d let me down, but he hadn’t. He told me he would save you and he _did_.  And now you’re still here in a time when I thought I’d be all alone.”  Keith breathed out sharply as he realized something. “...He loves me.”

Shiro brought Keith in closer, nodding softly.  “He does.”

“He said he’s been watching me ever since he left.  And now, I really believe he has been. He’s always been there,” Keith whispered, his laughter changing into soft sobs.  “Even when I couldn’t see it. He’s been there.” He was so overwhelmed. So deliriously happy. So exhausted. He was worn away into a little crying puddle that could only laugh and cry.  He grinned up at the person he loved more than anything. “God. Shiro... Shiro, I love you.”

“I love you too, Keith.  I love you so much.”

Keith nodded vigorously, laughing and sobbing, swaying with the song of the universe, feeling this one moment, the peak in which the universe had brought them together.

He looked up into the sky, through his tears, smiling up at all the twinkling lights there.  He knew that his father was up there, smiling. “Thank you,” he whispered to him. “ _Thank you_.”

Shiro looked up too.  His voice was so quiet that the softness of the desert around them nearly absorbed the sound.  “I’ll take care of him. ...Thank you.”

They stood there together, hands intertwined, staring up into the heart of the galaxy.  Keith cried for awhile, soft smile on his face the whole time as he let himself realize so many things.  

“Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“When I was little, my mother had told my father I was someone who doesn’t fit in this world.  Someone who can put a wedge in the natural flow of this place...to change things... I never quite got it.  The fallen star. Her fallen star,” Keith whispered. “Maybe she knew what would happen. Maybe she and my father worked together to stop you from going and that’s what she meant.  ...I don’t know. Maybe we’ll never know, but I’m okay with that. I know my father’s out there. And I can’t be mad at him anymore. He’s given me you...”

Shiro watched him, hands still holding tightly onto Keith’s.  “Come here,” he said, bringing him in for a kiss. He placed his lips against the soft corner of Keith’s mouth and trailed down to his chin.  Keith turned, seeking his mouth, and they kissed, warm and content. When Keith pressed in deeper, making the kiss almost lewd, Shiro chuckled and blushed, shying away.  “I’m nervous now,” he grinned into Keith’s skin. “I feel like your dad’s watching and going to kick my butt.”

Keith laughed, turning his head to kiss Shiro’s cheek.  “Let’s go inside.”

“Oh, is that how it works?  Out of range of the stars?”

“Pretty sure that’s how it works,” Keith laughed as Shiro scooped him up into his arms.  “Hey! I want to carry you!”

“It’s still too early.  I know you hurt your stomach earlier, you’ve been slouching all night.  Besides...we have all our lives for you to carry me. You’ll get sick of it.  I’ll start just hopping onto your back at random times. I’ll be your little turtle shell.”

“I doubt I’ll ever get sick of that.  Built-in defense; that’s cool as hell.”

Shiro walked them through the desert and into the light of their shack.  With one hand, he opened the door and warmth flooded them.

It was like walking into a completely different shack.

Shiro had cleaned it up.  The floor had been swept completely.  The window fixed and the couch reupholstered.  There was a curtain over the window, adding some privacy, and a mini fridge wedged into the corner.

“Wha-?”  Keith blinked, looking around in stunned confusion.  Where was the dirt? The sand? The empty spaces? It was almost fully furnished.

“When I was still leaving for Kerberos, I worried you’d run.  ...I wanted you to have a place to go to.”

“When did you have _time_ for this?”

Shiro shrugged.  “I made time.”

Shiro walked them around the room, pointing everything out.  “I have some chocolate and drinks in the fridge. And lots of macaroni and cheese in the pantry, of course.”

Keith grinned as Shiro opened the cabinet door and revealed more macaroni hoarding.  “Wow,” Keith whispered, still content to stay in Shiro’s arms. “You did all this...for me?”

“I just...had a feeling that I should do it.  I’m glad I did.”

He walked Keith into the bedroom and set him down carefully.  Keith turned to the plushie beside him and exclaimed, grabbing it into his arms, “it’s Red!  You kept her.”

Shiro chuckled, crawling on top of Keith.  “We need to bring Black to keep her company.”

“Hmm,” Keith hummed happily, turning his attention back up to Shiro, who had him pinned as he smiled down at him happily.

He reached up, brushing the hair from Shiro’s eyes.  “I can’t believe all of this. I think I’m dreaming.”

“Oh, so you have good dreams sometimes?”

“No,” Keith whispered.  “This is the first one.”

Shiro smiled, leaning down and claiming Keith’s mouth.  “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered back between kisses.  “This is for real. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Thank you, Shiro,” Keith closed his eyes and tilted his forehead to press against Shiro’s.

There was no rush.  No sorrow. No desperation.  They had all the time in the world to trace their fingers over soft skin, to kiss each other senseless, to explore each part of themselves together.  All the time they wanted...

His watch chimed.

Shiro pulled himself off Keith and looked down at his wrist.  “Wow, it still gets a signal out here?”

“Mm, I found yours too.  Here.”

“Oh, no...  I broke it when I dropped it...”

Keith flashed him a smile as he answered the call.  “Matt, hey. I found him. There’s this place out in the desert...he was there.”

“Is he okay?  What happened?”

Shiro leaned over Keith’s shoulder and said, “I’m not going to pilot for Kerberos, Matt.  I’m sorry. I’m staying.”

Matt huffed a big sigh.  “Yeah... I sort of figured.  You guys are okay with that? Not flying ever?  I mean, it’s not like you’re going to find a piloting career out in the desert.”

With a surprised blink, Keith remembered.  There were rainbows in the sky. A beginning hidden away in the sand nearby that only Keith could feel.

“-we don’t have to give up space...” Keith said slowly.  “If the dreams have any merit at all...” He looked up at Shiro, grin developing.  “ _Shiro_.”

Shiro’s eyes glinted as he leaned his face into Keith’s.  “What are you onto?”

Keith let out a shaky laugh, snatching up Shiro’s hand to hold onto tightly.  “Matt. Matt, meet up with us tomorrow. Bring Katie.”

“Katie?  ...Why Katie...?”

“I’ll explain everything when you get here.  I’m sending the coordinates now. Don’t tell Iverson.”

“Okay.  ...What’re you up to, Keith?”

“You’ll see,” he said breathlessly, ending the call.

“I know now,” Keith said, pulling himself onto Shiro’s lap, excitement in his voice, making his hands shake.  There were stars in his eyes and grin. “I know what we have to do. I’ve felt it since I got here, but I think I understand now.”

He grabbed Shiro’s hands in his and smiled at him, excited and shining brilliantly.

“I had a dream recently.  For once, it wasn’t bad.”

“No?”

“No.  I saw you and me, together, flying through the stars.”

“Oh, yeah,” Shiro said, leaning his chin on Keith’s shoulder, staring intently at his face.  “You mentioned that before.”

“...The universe is so much larger than any of us thought, Shiro.  It’s going to blow your mind.”

“Yeah?”  He murmured, completely fond.  “Where will we go?”

“ _Everywhere_ .  But it’s not just about that, it’s what we _do_.  Just wait...  But we need the others.”

Shiro was listening, eyes open and waiting.  There wasn’t a trace of disbelief in them. “Katie and Matt.”  

“And Lance and Hunk.”

“Your roommate and his friend?”

“Yes.  ...Yes, it feels right.”  Keith closed his eyes and saw as their futures were dividing.  Shiro’s arm never taken from him, his belief in others never tarnished.  He wasn’t as afraid anymore, as desperate. He didn’t have that time in the ring, snuffing the life out of those he didn’t want to hurt.

“Everything will be better,” Keith whispered, emotion welling up in his as he thought of all the pain Shiro wouldn’t have to go through anymore.  He felt as all of the hurt and trauma was erased out of Shiro’s future. Keith would protect him from the rest. They’d be side by side. They’d protect each other.  “Things will be different, but...but we’ll be together, so that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Shiro hummed, swaying them both back and forth.  “That sounds nice.”

As a fresh wave of tears poured over his face, Shiro hummed softly and ran his fingers over Keith’s cheeks, wiping them away.

Shiro’s voice was soft as he reached up and brushed away Keith’s tears.  “Why are you crying?”

“We get to be together,” his voice broke.

“...Yeah.  Yeah, we do.”  Shiro leaned in gently, kissing him warmly on the mouth.  “I’m not going to leave you. I’m going to stay right here.”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded quickly, trying to toss the tears from his face.  He grinned through them, chest light and airy. “ _Yeah_.”

“I love you,” Shiro said warmly, tilting his head to smile at Keith.

“I love you too, Shiro.”  Keith sniffed through his tears.  He pressed his forehead against Shiro’s and took a steadying breath in.  “So so much.”

Yeah.  This was right.  This was right where they were supposed to be.  Not Kerberos. Not the Garrison. They were born for bigger things.  The stars said so. And Keith believed in them.

 

 

 

* * *

 

“I don’t understand,” Lance was whining, frowning up into the caves like he was looking at bugs and not carvings.  “I know you said Keith _felt it_ or saw it or whatever, but why us?  I mean, Hunk still throws up before the sim even starts.  Iverson told me I’m going to be a cargo pilot. _Cargo_.  I mean, you guys are...”  He gave them a side glance.

“They’re people, not gods,” Katie muttered.  “Right, Matt? The first time I met Keith, he was sprawled out on the floor in his boxers...  Oh, man,” she laughed. “I’ll never forget that.”

She and Matt chuckled lowly together, exchanging amused grins.

“Hey,” Keith grumbled.  “I was _injured_.”

Shiro chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.  “This is all part of the plan, guys. We’re all pieces of a puzzle.  Trust us. We know what we’re doing.”

As he said that, the glyphs on the wall came to life, line shining all around them.

Keith breathed out shakily, looking to Shiro.  They grinned, lacing their hands together. And fell.

The ground caved beneath their feet and their stomachs flew into their mouths as they slid down and away.

They landed in water with a mighty splash that soaked them all the way through.

“Way to go, Keith!”  Lance was harping, squawking dramatically.  “Now we’re all wet!”

“No,” Keith breathed.  “ _Look._ ”

It was Blue.

Shiro pushed himself up beside Keith, placing his hands on Keith’s shoulders and looking up toward the lion.  He stared up at it in awe.

Keith looked up at him.  Shiro looked down at him.

Slowly, smiles developed, their eyes began to twinkle.  They laughed, pressing their heads together.

Keith breathed excitedly.  “So this is it. The beginning of the rest of our lives.”

Shiro weaved their hands together.  “I’m excited. You?”

Keith bit his lower lip, trying not to smile as dorkily wide as his face wanted.  He laughed, nodding. “ _Yes_.  Now...  Let’s go find Voltron.”

 

There are a lot of things Keith doesn’t know.  He doesn't yet know how good of a team they all make together. How good of a family. But they'll learn.  They'll learn to become their best selves. They'll learn to have the universe.

Keith's father may not have returned, but he's not gone. He didn't just leave a knife and an abandoned boy behind. He had left a star, a little lost, a little lonely, fallen to an earth he thought wouldn't be able to understand him.

But in a world of people Keith can't understand, there is one who understands _him_.

And he'll never let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *weeps* And at long last, 120k words and almost six months later, IT IS DOOOOOOOOOOONEEEEEEEEEE. I first started this right as I began to fall in love with Sheith, haha. Shiro is always in so much pain and it kills me so I was like..."I WANT A WORLD WHERE HE DOES NOT GO TO KERBEROS!" And then this was born. I...I have grown really fond of these boys having them around for as long as this has been. I hope you have too. It is kind of hard to let this go, haha. ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )
> 
> Anyway, if you are reading up to this point then THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR READING!! I am so grateful for you!  
> I really hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And a HUGE SHOUTOUT to all of those who have been commenting chapter to chapter. C'mere and give me a big bear hug, haha. ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Honestly, if no one commented, I probably wouldn't have even finished it. Like...I seriously hope you know just how far your support goes. I am so grateful for each and every comment. Thank you all so much. 
> 
> I have like fifty thousand other fics planned out (that's what it feels like anyway...I wish I had faster hands and brain power). SO THIS IS NOT GOODBYE. UNTIL NEXT TIME. (✿´꒳`)ﾉ°
> 
> Chat with me on [ Twitter? ](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


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